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allthesethingswillendsoon · 14 hours ago

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Long, long time

CHAPTER THREE: Just before everything changes

SUMMARY: Elementary school is over, forever, and the girls are both excited and terrified at what the future looks like. They’re both coming to terms with growing up and what they have to give up in order to move forward.

NOTE: I wrote this one in a much more timely manner than the last one. I also think this one is infinitely better than the other two, and it's almost double the length, kind of. This one is definitely dialogue heavy, specifically in the last bit, so if you don't like that then sorry. I think the next one will be more internal monologue stuff as opposed to real life events. Also I think I might have messed up the dates a bit because I'm not from America so I don't fully understand the school system and how old everyone is, so I'll probably go back later and amend any issues. But I'm really not sure how I managed to mess it up because I made a timeline and everything, but whatever, what can you do? Once again thanks for the support :)

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Warnings: Mentions of parent leaving, angst, periods (?) 5.3k words Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Azzi Fudd

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27th of MAY, 2014

OAKRIDGE VIRGINIA

Elementary school, it had come to an end almost as quickly as it had begun.The years had passed mostly without incident, Paige and Azzi growing impossibly closer with each day that passed.

So, to celebrate the end of the school year, the Fudds and the Bueckers had decided to spend the night in their local diner.

It was a small little place, tucked away next to the more industrial area of town. Bob always brought his own homemade food to work, but the young men that he employed were frequent customers of the little spot, being fans of the cheap, filling meals, or the pretty, young waitresses, or both in some cases.

Tying with Applebees, the diner was pretty much the nicest place to eat in town. So, everytime anything happened that was worth celebrating, the Bueckers-Fudd clan would find themselves shoved into their favourite circular booth in the back corner. Though they would never admit it, the booth was much too small for the seven occupants, four of which were growing at an alarmingly fast rate. But nonetheless, they squashed themselves in, bodies pressed tightly together, yet not tight enough to be uncomfortable.

Tim called over their favourite waitress, Cathy, a no-nonsense southern lady, who miraculously appeared to be both twenty and sixty at the same time. Her painted red lips twisted into a smile at the sight of her favourite customers, “Well hello, what can I get y’all?” Every time it was the same thing, her southern drawl filled with nothing but warmth.

The second the words left her mouth a chorus of young voices sounded out across the table, all fighting for their voice to be the loudest.

“Ummm can I get the pancakes!”

“I’ll have the nuggets, and a strawberry soda please.”

“Ooh! Ooh! I’ll have the fried eggs and bacon!”

“Cherry pie for me please, lots of ice cream on the side too.”

Perhaps an amateur waitress would’ve been overwhelmed by the barrage of requests, but this certainly was not Cathy’s first rodeo, and she wrote them all down with ease. The taking of their order was more of a formality than anything, the two families had slid into that booth more times than any of them could count, and ordered the exact same thing every time. The day Tim Fudd ordered anything other than the beef burger with a side of pickles would be the same day that pigs flew.

“Alrighty folks, that’ll be out in a few!” She said with a smile as she walked off to put the order through.

It only took seconds after she left before the complaining had already started, “I’m hungryyyyy!” Jose groaned.

“That’s why we just ordered, you stupid poop face.” Jon had retorted, punctuating his statement with a knock to Jose’s head.

“Watch it boys.” Tim had warned, purposefully ignoring the smug smile Jose gave to his brother next to him as he elbowed him in the ribs.

The conversation flowed easily, the adults fell into easy conversation, Paige and Azzi talking about whatever was piquing their interest at the moment, and the two brothers roughhousing just subtly enough that they wouldn’t get in trouble for it.

When the food came out the table fell into a comfortable silence as the kids in particular scoffed their meals down like they had been starved of all food for the past five centuries. Once their appetites had been satiated, and they had entered a mild food coma, Katie spoke to the girls, “So, our big elementary school graduates, do you guys know what you want to do after high school?”

“Yeah, same as always, I’m gonna work with dad.” Paige responded, it was a given at that point, the dream she had had since childhood was not changing anytime soon.

Azzi, however, was a different story, she had always been indecisive, bouncing from one career aspiration to the next, consistently changing her favourite song. There were a lot of things she was unsure on, but there were also some things she was dead set on. She knew her favourite colour was pink, and that a close second was rainbow (Which was a real colour if you asked her). She knew Olaf was the best character of all time, and that unicorns were the best animal, even if there was no ‘proof’ that they were real. But most importantly, she knew her best friend was Paige Bueckers - a fact that Paige took great pride in, considering Azzi’s indecisive nature.

That very trait was what made her statement so outlandish, “You guys know what I wanna do, it’s been the same for like forever.” She had said it with such confidence, that for a moment the table went silent, guilt washing over them at not remembering her apparent, long time aspiration.

That was until Jon burst out with laughter, the rest of the table following suit as the absurdity of the young girl’s comment settled over the table.

“What?” Azzi pouted, eyes darting from person to person as they laughed hysterically at her. Even Bob, who was never one to poke fun at someone, was chuckling lightly.

“You change your mind, like, every week hon.” Katie explained, still slightly breathless from her laughing fit.

“No I don’t!” She tried to defend herself, crossing her arms over her chest and tilting her chin up indignantly.

“You do.” Jon stated matter-of-factly.

The young girl was growing frantic, confused as to why no one was refuting the absolutely insane claim. But surely her best friend of many years would defend her, right?, “Paige? back me up!” She begged, eyes boring into Paige, trying to gain her attention.

Paige avoided her pleading gaze, trying to keep a neutral expression, but no one missed the little smirk that appeared on her face, “Sorry Az, they’re right.”

Feeling as if she had been stripped of her dignity, she continued with a huff, “Well I want to be a teacher, like I said on Heroes day.”

“Like Miss Honey.” Jose chuckled.

“Yes. Like Miss Honey.” She hissed back.

“Literally the week after that you went on and on about how you wished you would’ve been an astronaut instead.” Tim reminded her, putting a sour expression on her face as she realised she had been proved to be quite the undecided personality.

“Whatever!” Azzi snipped. Her annoyed facade only lasted a few moments before her conversation with Paige started up again.

Once again they settled into their usual chatter, laughter bouncing off the walls of the slowly-emptying diner. Sat there in the squishy booth, a feeling of familiar contentment washed over the group, a warm glow erupting in each person’s chest. From the outside eye they may not have looked like a traditional family, but they knew in their hearts that they were the truest family out there, and that was what really mattered.

It was time for close, Cathy always let them stay right up till the end of the night. She’d start the closing clean and that was their sign that it was time to wrap it up. As she wiped down the tables and mopped the floors with a practiced ease, the group cleared their table and brought their plates and scraps up to the kitchen window where they passed it off to the dishboy with a cheery “Have a good night!”.

When it came to the bill, there was always bickering between Bob and the Fudds. They had been so many times it was impossible to keep track of who paid last, yet no matter who won the squabble and got to put their card down, Cathy was sure to get a generous tip.

They spilled out onto the street, both dads slightly fumbled as they searched for their car keys under the dim light of the street lamps that lined the neighborhood.

As they sat on the curb outside the diner Paige and Azzi made a promise.

“This is gonna be our best summer yet.” Paige assured Azzi.

“Promise?” The curly-haired girl questioned, bringing her pinky finger out to the space between them.

Intertwining her pinky with Azzi’s, the blonde spoke again, “Promise.”

—------------------------

SUMMER, 2014

OAKRIDGE VIRGINIA

True to their promises, the summer before sixth grade had been the best of Paige and Azzi’s life.

Their parents had let them ride around on their bikes from sun up to just after sun down, and the girls were sure to make every minute of glorious, sweaty summer freedom count. They spent days upon days riding around aimlessly, going from street to street, ignoring the burning in their legs and the summer heat on their faces.

It was a kind of freedom they’d never felt before. A glorious, glowing kind that Azzi was sure to dangle in front of her brothers mockingly. But it was also the kind that felt like giving up their childhood at the same time. They had more responsibilities, both girls had their own set of house keys, a trust bestowed onto them by their parents that sent shivers down their spine at the thought of the sheer importance the keys held.

Change felt imminent. A deep-rooted anxiety that everything would be changing soon settled into the back of each girl’s mind. Perhaps they knew the other felt the same fears, perhaps they didn’t know. There truly was no way of knowing if the worries plaguing the two were shared, as both refused to speak them aloud, not wanting to waste breath on their concerns, in case doing so actually did bring them to life.

Yet at that same time, it was summer, and if there really was some ‘big-bad’ lurking around the corner, then the least they could do is enjoy the good times while they lasted, right?

One particularly boiling day, the pair rode to the lake on the outskirts of town and spent all day skipping rocks and swimming in the blue water to escape the temperature. Time was a thing of the past on that day, any thoughts of returning home before dark absent from the girl’s minds, fully focussing on savouring every minute of fun together. Only when the sun began to set, bright blue skies giving way to softer, orange-pink hues, did they realise they were a thirty minute bike ride away from home, and minutes away from being past curfew.

Scrambling onto their bikes like madwomen, they cycled faster than anyone had ever cycled before, turning the thirty minute bike ride into a twenty minute one. That feat, however, did not matter to either girl’s parents as they returned to their respective houses after their curfews.

For the longest week of their life, they had both been banned from riding their bikes, stuck in their houses, or in the very few places they could be bothered to walk to. Despite the punishment they were still able to do whatever they wanted, opting to watch disney movies all day under ceiling fans with ice blocks galore waiting for them in the freezer.

Days rolled into nights which rolled into an endless slew of days and nights, practically each minute spent together, living inside each other’s skin. It was a dream. Getting to spend every waking second of the day just a walk across the street away.

It hadn’t all been fun though, Bob had insisted on going ‘home’ to visit their family in Minnesota. Paige thought it was silly, a sentiment she shared with Azzi, who mainly just wished that her best friend could stay with her the whole summer.

“It’s just stupid really. I mean I don’t even know them! The most I talk to them is when we call on Christmas and on birthdays!” The older girl had complained as she had stomped around her bedroom, chucking as many clothes as she thought were suitable for a five day trip to Minnesota.

“Yeah, I agree, your dad should just let you stay with me… Or let me come with you!” Azzi had replied from her spot splayed out on Paige’s single bed.

“That’s such a good idea, I’ll ask dad about both!” Paige had grinned back, sure that their plans would be approved by her dad.

Unfortunately for the girls, Bob had said no to both options with a disbelieving laugh that Paige had taken great offense to. So, for the first time ever the two were away from one another for more than three days, it was the longest they had ever been apart. Azzi complained to her family day after day in her best friend’s absence, and Paige spent the whole car ride to Minnesota groaning in pain, stating that she was “fading away” the further she got from Azzi.

Miraculously, both girls somehow managed to survive the five torturous days spent states apart, but due to the holes in their hearts that had formed in each other’s absences, they simply had to have a five day long sleepover to make up for the lost time, alternating houses each night.

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3rd of SEPTEMBER, 2014

OAKRIDGE VIRGINIA

It was the night before, the night before the first day of middle school. The girls had begged their parents to let them have a sleepover the actual night before, but they had been quick to shut the idea down, knowing that either the pre-school nerves, or each other, or both would keep them up into the early morning hours, leading to two sleep-deprived pre-teens.

So. begrudgingly, they had settled on the night before, the night before.

Paige had spent all day school shopping with her dad, and was feeling like her head might fall off if she had to spend another minute in the uncomfortably bright changing rooms of a JC Penny or Old Navy shoving herself into a sweater near-identical to the past twenty she’d tried on.

Yet somehow, the worst part of all was the stationary shopping. Being a single dad meant Bob had obviously taken on the role of both parents. So, that meant that school supply shopping was all on him, and he had taken it upon himself to make sure that Paige had the exact brand and make of each item listed on the school list. A lesson he had learnt when he had sent her to the first grade with an arsenal of black and blue pens, and not a single coloured pencil in sight, having neglected to look at the school issued list. It had ended in a phone call home and a red-faced Bob scrambling to find lead pencil in the ruins of the post-back-to-school-sale Walmart.

Although Paige appreciated her dad’s commitment to the quality and uniformity of her educational utensils, it did turn him into quite the Karen. Every single time he couldn’t find the exact item they were looking for he would call over a (likely underpaid) teenage worker, who really couldn’t care less, and near-force them to scour every inch of the store in search of the desired item. They’d always been able to find whatever it was, and Paige lived in fear for what would happen the day an item was out of stock, but that was a problem for future Paige.

For some reason, God decided Paige hadn’t suffered enough in one day, and sent every school parent and every colleague and every person Bob or Paige had ever met was at the mall on that very day. It felt impossible to move more than twenty feet without running into a chatty, well-intentioned acquaintance, who just happened to feel like spending, at minimum, five minutes saying things like, “Wow! How tall are you now Paige! I remember when you could fit in my arms” or another classic “Middle school, really? You’ll be picking a college before you know it!”. They were nothing but nice to her, so she was nothing but nice in return, which really just made the whole situation worse because it made them think she really did want to talk to them about their cousin’s neighbour’s son who’s “Just around your age!”

Despite the trials and tribulations of her day, the light at the end of the tunnel remained, Azzi (also her dad let her get a hot pretzel before they left which was really nice).

On the other hand, Azzi was lucky enough to have gone school shopping in the five gruelling days that Paige was away. Stocking up on pens and books and shirts and socks was a pain to do for one kid, but to do it for three? Safe to say, Bob was sure to always commend Tim and Katie on their valiant efforts of rounding up the kids for school shopping.

So instead of being soft-tortured in the mall, she had been run ragged by her brothers. They had so cruelly forced her to run around under the blaring summer sun through the sprinklers for hours and hours. They had played a variety of games, everything from flag football to soccer to basketball. Even games you’d think you couldn’t play with only three people they were able to do.

She was nearing the age where she would start to feign annoyance at her brother’s constant attempts to gain her attention, but she wasn’t quite there yet. Though her parents knew her well, and predicted that even when she went through her phase of faux-annoyance she would likely fail to avoid spending time with her family, after all she was definitely a homebody at heart.

Azzi’s only refuge from the summer heat had come in the form of lunchtime, when she was able to go inside and chow down on hot dogs and homemade lemonade. She reapplied her sunscreen diligently, trying her hardest not to miss a spot, wanting to avoid the sting that came along with a sunburn.

Unfortunately, despite her best efforts, by the end of the day her skin was pinking, feeling just raw enough to make her clothes feel like fire on her skin.

All of Azzi’s sunburnt discomfort, and Paige’s shopping-induced weariness faded when Paige and Bob knocked on the Fudd family door.

The two girls ran into each other’s arms as if they had been reunited after years, not after the actual, mere twenty-four hours they had spent away from one another.

After a bit of adult chatter, Bob took his exit, wrapping Paige in a bear hug before he headed home for the night.

Following a classic Fudd Saturday night meal of spag-bowl and garlic bread, the girls had changed into their pajamas and were readying themselves for bed.

Paige had gone to the bathroom, double checking her bladder really was empty, that way she wouldn’t be woken up needing to pee, definitely not because she was scared to make the walk across the hall to the bathroom in the darkness.

Azzi was sitting at her desk, fixing up her hair when she heard her name being called softly yet urgently from the bathroom.

“Az! Azzi! Azzi!” Paige’s frantic whispers were growing more and more desperate. The older girl diverting from her relatively chill demeanour sent alarm bells to Azzi’s mind.

She nearly sprinted to the bathroom door where Paige’s head was sticking out.

“What’s wrong Paige? Tell me? What happened?” From all that Azzi could see of Paige, the only thing concerning was the troubled look on her face.

“Can you get your mom Az, please?” Paige pleaded, her voice wobbled almost inconceivably, but Azzi caught it.

“C’mon Paige, I can’t see anything wrong. It can’t be that bad, seriously, just show me.”, bringing her hand up to the door to push through.

“NO!” Paige yelled, swatting Azzi’s hand away. She seemed to shock herself more than Azzi with her sudden outburst.

She took a deep breath and started over, “Sorry Az.” She paused again, as if trying to hype herself up before continuing, “I think I got… I think… I think I got my y’know…”

Azzi thinks, her brows furrowing as she tried to think of what Paige was talking about.

“You got your what?” She questioned, after a moment of contemplation.

“My period.” The words that had left Paige’s mouth stunned Azzi, she had suddenly lost her ability to speak, which only distressed Paige further.

“Earth to Azzi?” Paige said, waving her hands in front of Azzi’s face.

Snapped back to reality, but still in a bit of a daze, she responded, “Yeah?”

“So can you get your mom now please?” Paige half-begged, the conversation having been drawn out far longer than she had anticipated.

“Yeah, yeah, sure, one second.” Azzi mumbled as she walked off to her parent’s room.

A moment passed before she came back with her mom, the bathroom door now shut, Paige having bunkered herself down inside.

Katie motioned for Azzi to go, who protested, really thinking she could be of help, but her mom shut that down, staring her down till she stomped back to her room.

Knocking softly on the door, she whispered, “Paige honey, it’s Katie, can you let me in please hon?”

A minute of silence passed, punctuated by the light sound of sniffling and shuffling before the door creaked open, a red-rimmed-eyed Paige standing before Katie.

“Oh honey.” Katie soothed before wrapping Paige into a tight, bear hug.

Azzi listened from behind her door, and despite how her heart ached hearing her best friend in distress, it also made her heart beam to know that she was like family not only to herself, but to her mom, and her dad, and her brothers.

Katie was a great woman, and Paige knew she saw her as an almost second daughter. Yet, as she sat on the toilet lid, watching in half-confusion, half-horror as the older woman explained periods and uteruses and pads to her, she couldn’t help the overwhelming wave of sadness that washed over her.

Paige didn’t have much experience with having a mom, but she knew that getting your period was obviously something that you were meant to tell your mom, and not your best friend’s mom. She couldn’t help but feel like a core, mother-daughter bonding moment had been stolen from her, because it had.

Was it the kind of thing where you ate chocolates together and cried? Or did you watch some old rom-com together? Paige’s nan, or rather her mom’s mom, loved ‘Sixteen Candles’ and said she and Amy used to watch it at least once every year. If her mom was there would they have eaten chocolate and ice cream and watched ‘Sixteen Candles’ and cried together?

It wasn’t fair that she didn’t have a mom that cared enough to stick around. But as Katie walked her into Azzi’s room, the younger girl rushed up to them and pulled them into a tight group hug.

She didn’t know what it was like to have a mom, but in that moment she remembered that she did know what it was like to have people choose to unconditionally love her, and suddenly the things she didn’t have mattered a little less.

—------------------------

They had decided to hop into bed early, considering the eventful night Paige had had, and the tiring days both girls had experienced.

From her bed Azzi broke the comfortable silence with a question that had been playing on her mind since she had been sent to wait in her room for Paige, “Soooo, how does it feel to be a woman now?”

There was a pause as Paige took a moment to think, before her voice sounded out from her place on the mattress on the floor, “Uh… I don’t know… it feels the same to be honest.”

Paige’s response slightly shocked Azzi, who had been convinced that getting your period turned you into a fully new person, “Really? I’m kinda scared to get my period.”

“It’s fine Az, I was just being a baby, you don’t have to worry. Besides, your mom will be there to help.” Paige explained. Though she couldn’t see her face, Azzi was sure that her best friend had her signature light pink dusting of blush across her face as she thought back to her little outburst in the bathroom earlier.

“Yeah, she will be,” Azzi nodded, before she thought out loud, “I wonder how many girls in our grade have gotten theirs over the summer, probably lots.”

“Mmm, maybe, no way to know really.”

“I guess. It’s weird though, don’t you think? Just like growing up, the whole idea of it.”

Paige hummed in agreement, “I think it’s just a part of life. You can’t stop time. If I could, I'd probably just stay here forever.”

Azzi thought of Paige's statement, before she realised a fatal flaw to the plan, “But then you’d have to be on your period forever.”

“I wouldn’t mind though, cause I’d get to be with you forever”

The earnest words brought a soft smile to the young girl’s face. It could be easy to forget how sentimental Paige could be. She was really similar to her dad, in the way she had a seemingly tough exterior, when in reality she was one of the most emotionally intelligent, down-to-Earth people Azzi knew.

Instead of saying something of equal sentimentality, she opted for something a little more light-hearted, “Such a sap for me P.”

Paige rolled her eyes with such intensity it was almost audible, if that were even possible, “Nevermind I change my mind.”

Azzi laughed lightly at Paige’s response, “Noooooo, stop. I’d stay here forever too.”

Instead of responding, they giggled a little, before they fell into a comfortable silence, both girls staring up at the ceiling, waiting for sleep to overtake them when Azzi spoke quietly, “Do you think we’re ever gonna look back on this moment when we’re older and wish we could go back?”

“Maybe, everything is pretty good right now.” Paige whispered back after a moment of contemplation.

The younger girl hums in agreement, “Yeah, everything is great.” She went silent for a moment, before she added, “I hope things are always this good between us.”

Azzi’s words shocked Paige, taking her aback, “What do you mean? Why wouldn’t they be?”

Frowning, she explained, “I don’t know… just… sometimes people grow up and they just don’t like each other that much anymore. And like spending time together feels like a chore and stuff. And then they either stay and make each other miserable, or just leave and be miserable separately.”

Paige’s silence consumed the room for such a long time that Azzi had to turn to look down at her and check if she was awake. Her breath was soft, and Azzi could see the glow in the dark stars reflecting in Paige’s eyes as she contemplated her statement.

She took a deep, shaky breath before she asked, “Do you think that’s how my mom felt about my dad? Do… Do you think that’s how my mom felt about me?”

The silence returned after Paige’s statement, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air as Azzi struggled to find a way to explain to her best friend that she couldn’t understand why anyone would ever leave her.

“What? No, of course not, why would you say that?” When Azzi had said what she did, she hadn’t realised Paige would think about it like that, but then again, how else would she think about it?

The realisation that she had caused Paige to think her mom had grown tired of her made Azzi feel like she was going to throw up, like her world had come crashing down around her.

“Well, why else do people leave? If we’re hanging out and we’re having a good time together, I’m not just gonna pack up my stuff when you turn away and leave without saying anything. People don’t leave when they’re having a good time.” Her breath catching on the last few words, “When they love the people they’re with.”

Paige wasn’t sure how long she had been holding her tears in, all she knew was that they had started to trickle down her face and she hated it and wished they would stop.

Azzi felt severely out of her depth, unsure how to soothe the older girl into understanding that for whatever reason her mom left, it was no fault of her own. “I don’t know… I think it’s more complicated than that when you grow up. Like all the issues that we think matter now aren’t gonna matter anymore, and we’ll be thinking about things like taxes and, like jury duty I guess. Like adults are just weird, big kids… And I have no idea why your mom left, but what I do know is that it’s not your dad’s fault or your fault. It’s her fault because she’s missing out on being around you, because you’re awesome, you’re the best person I know. And for what it’s worth you’ll always have me, I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, you’re stuck with me for a long time Paigey.”

Sometime during Azzi’s little speech, Paige had begun to hyperventilate, full-body sobs wracking her skinny frame as she tried to catch her breath.

“I’m sorry Az, I don’t know why I’m so upset.” Paige managed to push the words out, gulping big gasps of air between each word.

“It’s okay Paigey, there’s nothing to apologise for.” Azzi breathed out into the fresh night air.

For what seemed like the millionth time that evening, the room fell silent, bar Paige’s steady stream of sniffling and sobbing. In the darkness Azzi shuffled off her bed and into Paige’s mattress, slipping herself under the doona.

The older girl kept her back turned to Azzi, who dragged her fingertips soothingly along Paige’s arms. They stayed like that for a moment, before Paige turned over, tucking her head into the crook of Azzi’s neck.

Chest to chest, they were so close Azzi could feel the heaving breaths that Paige was taking as she cried into the neckline of her shirt.

“I love you Paige, You’ll always have me, no matter what.”

She didn’t hear her best friend’s response, only felt the muffled vibration of words against her shoulder and Paige’s hand grabbing onto her own, interlocking their fingers.

Azzi drew stars and hearts and “I love you”s onto Paige’s back, not stopping till the blonde’s staggered breathing gave way to the soft snoring of her sleep. Only then did she let herself drift off into the comfort of sleep.

—------------------------

5th of SEPTEMBER, 2014

OAKRIDGE VIRGINIA

The moment had finally arrived. There it was right before their very eyes, Middle school.

The wide brick building stood tall and imposing in front of them. Both girls couldn’t help the wild thrashing of their hearts as anxiety began to flood their systems at the prospect of middle school.

Their parents had left them only a minute prior, and they had been firmly planted in the same spot they had been before they left.

As the pre-warning bell went off, Paige glanced down at her purple, digital wristwatch, before she looked back up at Azzi.

“I think we need to go in now.” She spoke quietly, her worries evident in both her face and her voice.

“Okay, yeah. We’ve got this.” Azzi responded, unsure as to whether her words were intended to soothe herself, or Paige, or both.

“Yeah, we’ve got this, together.” Paige assured, pulling Azzi’s equally sweaty palm into her own.

“Together.” Azzi said with a squeeze.

With that they were off.

As they walked through the doors of Oakridge Middle School, it felt as if the world shifted right beneath their feet. From then on everything would be different, friendships would bloom and wither, personalities would change for the better and the worse. Yet as they stepped into their future, hand and hand, it seemed just a little less scary.

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NOTE: Hope everyone likes this one, I definitely like it way more than the first two. Next one will be out probably in a bit over a week I think, if all goes according to plan.

Thanks again for reading :)

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riririnnnn · 3 days ago

Text

To know that Sae doesn't think he is having any kind of fight with Rin and he, in fact, watches BLTV too makes me think that this post of mine wasn't that far from the tracks.

Yes, of course, he might not be watching BLTV solely for Rin and the reasons might also be Isagi, Shidou, Kaiser, and maybe even Lorenzo, Charles, Loki, and Noa. However, I just like to believe that he never stopped looking out for his little brother, Rin. And in a very strange way, I think he was looking out for Rin in that Snowy Night too.

First thing first, something was wrong with Sae in that flashback.

As the saying goes, "Eyes are the window to one's soul," he looks so worn out—miserable, in fact. And I highly think that around the time of this flashback, it hadn't been that long since he lost his dream—or maybe got his dreams crushed. And I got two reasons to think this way:

To repeat my words, he looks miserable, which is a given when you lose a dream, compared to his later appearance like in the U-20 match. And judging by the timeline, the flashback and U-20 match have 1 year-ish gap which is an ample amount of time to cope up and get a hold of yourself.

Rin kept close tabs on Sae through news and all. The younger Itoshi would definitely be the one, if not the first, to know that Sae was now aiming to be the best midfielder instead of the best striker. But..

...Rin didn't know shit.

Now, you might be wondering why in the world I'm focusing so much on the timeline, right? Like, Sae got his dreams crushed, then he return to Japan and confronted Rin—what's the big deal about it even if these events happened in a short amount of time?

...

And that's where you'd be wrong if you think this way.

We all keep forgetting that to be the world's greatest striker was Sae's dream first before he decided to share it with Rin. Sae has been playing this sport since he was one year old. Soccer, probably, came into his life before Rin did. Rin gave his teen years to this game, but Sae has nearly given his whole life to this dream.

Now imagine yourself in Sae's position. Imagine devoting your whole childhood and teen years to something only to not be able to achieve it in the end. Won't you be devastated? Won't you be a mess? Won't you need some time to collect yourself together? Now do you understand why the timeline matters so much? And why the timeline is such a big deal? Hm?

Secondly, Sae has never been a visibly sweet person, even to Rin.

Yes, Sae took care of Rin, but did we ever see him go, "Aww! My lil baby bro Rinnie! Cutie patootie! My baby bro <333333" Did we? He had always been rather.. emotion-less and blunt. After the above panel, too, his words were, "You can be the most amazing, after me."

He just has been like that.

Always.

That's why I have always believed that he never changed as a person, even after Spain. He has been like this from the start, which is also why I think that his harsh words in that Snowy Night was just another way of him looking out for Rin because guess who has known soccer longer? Who has gone out of Japan and seen the outside world's soccer with his own eyes?

Yeah.

In a way, Sae's dream had more weight than Rin's. The older Itoshi had soccer in front of his vision, meanwhile the younger one had his Nii-chan in front of his eyes. Despite being so focused in this sport, Sae just couldn't be it, so what makes you think Rin could've made it when his sole focus was his Nii-chan instead? Wouldn't have Rin struggled so much in the outside world with this kind of mentality?

And this is something, I think, Sae knew too—on that Snowy Night, he actually realised what Rin's real mindset was like and immediately knew that it just wasn't going to fly in the world stage. Sae was just saving Rin from the hardships he himself must've went through during his time in Spain—Sae was just looking out for Rin.

"What about those mean things he said to Rin?" you may ask, and that's exactly where the timeline comes into play—Sae was just a mess, and Rin's words were the breaking point for him.

"What words?" you may ask now, and these are the words:

Repeating myself, eyes are the window to one's soul:

Sae never broke his promise—Sae never stopped looking out for Rin.

#blue lock #bllk #itoshi sae #itoshi rin #雪 ranting

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writing-mlm · 1 day ago

Note

saw you do familial reqs? damian with an older brother figure reader would be so awesome.. bonus points if he’s also some moody bat and just kinda sees himself in damian. he used to be a sort of outcast himself, so he can empathize with damian when dame feels like he’s sort of ostracized from the other robins or bat fam members.

Annual New Robin Trip

Summary: Damian’s been Robin long enough that it’s his turn to go on the Robin Trip Pairing: Damian Wayne & Brother!reader Wc: 4.5k tags/warnings: sibling bond, both were child assassins, Bruce is bad at parenting

Dick was the bubbly, bumbling Robin. People used to say he was truly a circus kid; flipping from chandeliers and being a little terror. Although everyone is pretty sure he was definitely out for blood whenever he had the chance. He would tell the most awful puns while fighting and Bruce wouldn’t even scold him.

Jason was just happy to be there, he had everything he could ever ask for and he was taken in by Batman! Oh, boy- oh, boy! He would hide under the cape and yell boo to all the petty criminals Bruce let him fight. Until he couldn’t anymore.

Tim had the easiest life prior to donning the R on his chest. After that, he was the worst Robin. Not because he was bad; Tim was arguably the best Robin during his career but because he never got to experience the things Dick or Jason had. He was left picking up the pieces after Jason’s death, holding Bruce together to the best of his abilities. He went out on patrols alone, with no cape to hide under or any grumpy adult to hold in a chuckle.

Stephanie wanted to prove a point, she pushed Bruce in ways Tim didn’t. But in the end, she was pushed to the side. No one even remembers her time as Robin. The girl Robin, the blonde one. It was only what… seventy-five days? Why would anyone remember her? Forgotten in the murky waters of Batman’s timeline. Erased.

Damian wasn’t as fortunate. He didn’t come from Gotham or a traveling circus hiding a cult. He came from the Ra’s Al-Ghul, he came from the demon head. Born a killer, bathed in the pit— his life was cursed from the beginning. Sorrow and rot; that’s what his life was even after he put on the Robin suit. Despite being the only Robin connected to Batman by blood, he was the biggest outside in the bunch.

He couldn’t do anything right. He kept messing up— his father was constantly disappointed by him and he couldn’t figure out what he was doing wrong. He’s doing what he was taught— the blade. He hadn’t meant to take another life— he was trying to be better. But he doesn’t realize when he’s going too far because, for him, the limit didn’t exist until less than a year ago.

You could relate to that… all too well.

“What do you want?” Damian grits when he spots you on his desk, messing with one of his countless knives. He hides his face, not wanting to show a weakness— his weakness. “I thought father threw you out.” Some time ago, maybe two months ago, you and Bruce had gotten into an explosive argument that ended with a frozen pork chop on your eye and a frozen bag of peas on his chin before he told you never to come back.

“He did,” You hum, unfurling yourself from the desk and standing tall. “I know the security system— and Pennyworth let me back inside.” You smile.

“Pennyworth shows little loyalty to father,” He spits, sitting on the bed.

“He shows plenty, Damian. He knows something that Bruce doesn’t, at the moment.” You tilt your head as you add the last part. Bruce will find out sooner than later anyway, might as well tell him.

“And what’s that?” He asks arms crossed as he glares at you. You look away and huff, rolling your head onto your shoulder.

“I need his opinion on something, something important.”

“And you’re in my room?”

“I also wanted to speak to you,” You admit. “You’ve been here long enough for us to continue the tradition.” He pauses, hand settling on the dagger he keeps in his pocket.

“What sort of tradition?” The only traditions he’s used to are fights or death; neither of which is he in the mood for.

“Nothing like the League, I can assure you. I.. I take all the Robins on a… bonding trip after they’ve settled in.” You explain, now sitting on a chair. “I took Jason to the arcade and a library in Prague, Tim to my family’s annual barbecue and fishing, and Stephanie to this spa retreat for the weekend. It’s your turn.”

“Why would I care for this… bonding trip?” He asks, setting the dagger down. “I’m not like the others— I’m better. I don’t need some stupid trip with a rejected hero,” Shrugging, you look at the mirror on his wardrobe. You see Damian, sitting while glaring at you. You see yourself, staring at the signs of age and tiredness on your, admittedly, not old body.

“Talk to the others about it, just not Richie. He never got one.” Leaving, Damian thinks for a second before he follows after you. As quiet as a mouse, he slips into the cave after you, clinging to the darkness as he’s been trained to do.

“Is it that time already?” Dick asks when you enter with your hands in your pockets. He’d been talking with Bruce about something, but he was too far to hear. Bruce spins around, looking you up and down with a watchful gaze.

“I have news,” You roll your eyes when Dick pulls you into a hug. “About my assignment.”

“No one assigned you to it,” Bruce reminds you, guilt flashing over his eyes. You shrug and lean against your older brother, your head resting on his shoulder. He squeezes your arm, happy to see you again. He’s always been happy to see his first baby brother safe and sound; at home.

“I found their base; took them down, too.” You tell them, fighting the urge to tuck into yourself. “They were hiding out in Australia.”

“Did you kill them?” Bruce asks. Damian pressed against a rock, his small figure hidden perfectly as he watched the three of you. You don’t answer, but your eyes drift to the ground when Bruce sighs through his nose. “I have one rule.”

“I know,” You stress, pulling away from Dick. “I know! But I didn’t mean to! But they wouldn’t give me any other choice; do you think I wanted to kill them? I tried to save them,”

“Clearly not hard enough,” Bruce blinks and Damian falters in the same way you did. Bruce had said the same thing to him not even three hours ago. “You should’ve contacted me. I could’ve saved them.”

“I tried,” You stress. “I called and I sent letters. I- I— You never answered me! I didn’t want to kill them!”

“B,” Dick puts a hand on your shoulder as you sniff and look away. “You know that they wouldn’t go; he had to.”

“We could’ve—“

“God! You’d think after raising one child assassin he'd be better at this.” You spit and wipe your nose. “You’re still shit at helping us.”

“(Y/n),” Bruce sighs. “You know I love you and I love Damian, you’re my sons.” He holds your shoulder and you falter, biting the inside of your cheek.

“Hell of a way of showing it.” He doesn’t apologize, Bruce doesn’t know the word sorry but he hugs you. You don’t hug back, just pat his shoulder until he pulls away.

“I’m glad you’re home safe.” He whispers before he finally pulls away. “It’s a shame you had to kill them.” Nodding, you look at Dick.

“I had to kill my parents,” You admit, trying to keep yourself composed when he frowns and immediately hugs you. “They kept calling me and calling me, begging me to join them again. I couldn’t… I’m tired of killing. I see them when I sleep, their faces. Their blood was so warm.”

Damian looks away, flashes of the people he’s killed plays through his mind and he leaves the cave. He needs to be alone. His eyes are stinging and he’s sure if he breathes any harder he’s going to be spotted.

“Aside from that,” You clear your throat and fix your clothes. “Damian’s been Robin for… some time now. It’s nearing the time where I take the new Robin out for a trip.”

“If he agrees,” Bruce nods.

“I still haven’t been taken out for a trip,” Dick dramatically sighs.

“You’re older than me. You’re supposed to take me.”

“Can I?” He gleams and you shake your head with a smile before walking away. “Please!”

“No, Dickie. You suck at planning,”

—

You don’t spend the night at the manor; it hasn’t felt like home in years. You hate your old room, you hate how Bruce hasn’t touched it since you’ve gone; everything besides that stupid broken picture frame. It’s been swept up, and replaced with a different frame.

And somehow, the picture that was inside sits on your kitchen island.

Your current place is temporary, rented out on a monthly basis with some shady landlord you don’t truly care about. The lease is hardly a day old, so for someone to have known where you lived they must’ve been recently following you. For them to have access to the picture they’ve been in the manor. Because that’s the same picture, you know because there’s an inky, smudged fingerprint on the back.

“You were close to my father?” Damian asks as you enter the living room, still holding the picture in your loose grip.

“Thick as thieves,” You grin, although there’s no happiness or warmth behind it. Setting the table on the side table, you sit next to Damian.

“You mentioned your family's barbecue earlier but they’re assassins. Assassins don’t do family barbecues,” He should know.

“Different family,” You breathe in, staring down at him while he looks around the dingy apartment. “I… My blood family are assassins and yeah; no family barbecues. But eh… I’m sort of married,” You laugh and his head snaps to you. “Yup, I got married at twenty. Love of my life, they’re wonderful. I consider their family my own,” He tuts at the idea of love and you remember yourself doing the same thing when you were his age.

“I assume they know?”

“My spouse does, yes. Their family… do not. It’s not exactly something they’d want to hear about their son-in-law.”

“Does father know you’re married?”

“No— maybe,” You shrug. “If he does he’s never mentioned it. I don’t hide it but I never bring them around him.” He tuts and stands up. You watch with a careful eye as he struts into your kitchen and steps up to the counter, climbing to reach the cabinet and then standing to reach the top shelf to grab a cup. He rinses it out before opening the fridge.

His nose turns up at the options and you hold back a laugh, watching as he picks out the water jug before pouring himself a glass. He sniffs the water, eyeing you wearily before holding the cup to you.

God, you’d done the same exact thing to Bruce when you first arrived.

Taking a sip, he seems content when you don’t have a reaction other than pouring yourself a cup and slowly sipping his drink.

“I assume you’re from the Shadows?” He’s strutting back to the couch while you lean against the counter, holding the cup by the rim with the ends of your fingers.

“Shadow adjacent. Subsection created about fifty years back,”

“So you were born into it?” He sets the now empty cup on the table and picks up the picture, carefully examining it, and then checks the date on the back. “For twelve years before you met Father.”

“I was,” You nod. “Joined Bruce and Dickie.”

“Before you gave up.” He adds. You laugh, shaking your head before finishing your water in one big gulp.

“Damian, I didn’t give up. I was… I couldn’t live up to Bruce’s expectations. It’s hard not killing but I tried. I tried for years. But every time I went out someone died. So, I learned to use computers, I stayed in the cave and watched over everyone. I was the Oracle before Oracle was a thing.”

“You were a coward,” He corrects with a tight voice. “You gave up and hid inside of the cave when you could’ve helped people!”

“Damian. It’s not cowardly to stop trying. Because I did eventually go back, but it was under my rules. I stopped listening to Bruce’s voice, his rules, his insane expectations. Dick mentioned you like Veil?”

“I do,” He gives one curt nod. “They’re effective and father gives them high praise.”

“That’s me, Damian.” You grin and for a moment, his jaw goes slack but he quickly composes himself. “You can call Bruce. I have the suit in my closet… help yourself, I guess,” Watching as he rushes into your bedroom, he shuffles through clothes before he pulls out your suit.

“I suppose you’re not a coward.” He settles in when he neatly puts the suit back in its spot.

—

“Yes, Bruce?” You sigh, phone placed between your ear and shoulder as you’re sorting through laundry. “What do you want from me? My soul? My last piece of self-worth?”

“(Y/n),” He sighs that old man sigh he’s started doing after Jason came back and he realized he had to deal with two homicidal sons. Three now. “Damian has requested you at the manor.”

“Tell him I want to experience the Robin Trip.” You hear Damian say and you smile. “Father, tell him!” He demands and you think you can hear him stomping his foot.

“He wants you to take him on the Robin Trip,” Bruce relays.

“I’ll be there in an hour. Pack enough clothes for about five days. Nothing fancy, either.”

You arrive in your trusty mom van. It’s a lovely seven-seater with plenty of trunk space and a rack on the top. Of course, Alfred wouldn’t let you just stay in the driveway. No, it was late so of course, you had to stay for dinner and you’ll leave in the morning. Pinky promise.

“Reject is back,” Jason grins, giving you a tight hug. You hug him back, swaying him from side to side. You’d missed him when you came over the week prior; something Dick says he simply will not stop complaining about.

“Oh, hey,” Tim looks up from his dinner plate and offers a nod. You never did get too close to him; he never wanted an older brother. He wanted Bruce and you simply weren’t him. You nod back, running your fingers along Jason’s head before he shoves your hand away; chiding that he’s not a kid anymore.

“Hmph!” Damian stands between you and Jason, arms crossed as he looks between the two of you. You smile and ruffle his hair despite his protests and threats.

“Staying for dinner?” Bruce asks from the head of the table, reading the daily newspaper. Even though it’s well into the afternoon, almost night.

“At Pennyworth's insistence,” You nod, detaching yourself from Jason and Damian. “Unless there’s an issue with that.” You add.

“No,” He shakes his head while setting the paper down. “None at all, please, stay. There’s always a room open for you.”

“Aside from the times he kicks us out,” Jason pretends to whisper while Dick barrels down the stairs. You think he did trip at some point but he caught himself.

“I missed you!” He squeezes you just as tightly as you’d squeezed Jason and you cringe, patting his back. Jason snickers while Damian tuts and heads to his seat at the table.

“You saw me last week, Dickie.” You’re put back on your feet and Dick sighs, leaning away from the hug but holds you still.

“After not seeing you for months!” He adds, the smile dropping as he checks you over. This time in proper lighting. “God, leaving me here alone with Bruce. I’ve had to smile every single day with him waiting for you.” He mutters just loud enough that you can hear.

“Not like I had a choice,” You grit, eyes flickering to the table. “Dinner?” You sigh.

“Yes, do take a seat.” Alfred smiles. “I’ve prepared your favorite, Master (Y/n).”

“You shouldn’t have,” You smile at him.

“You really shouldn’t have,” Jason sighs and turns to Damian. “He has the worst taste in food.”

“Jason, not everyone likes burgers dipped in cheese and barbecue sauce.”

“Exactly,” He nods as if you’ve proved his point.

Surprisingly, dinner goes off without a hitch. There were not more than ten snarky remarks, not once did someone awkwardly fake cough to move the conversation along, and everyone’s food remained on their plates.

“Where will we be going?” Damian asks after insisting he walks you to your bedroom.

“You’ll see,” You grin. “I think you’ll like it.”

“I do not like none-answers,” He huffs, crossing his arms. “You could be leading me into a trap.”

“Bruce approved,” Is all you’re willing to give him. It satiates him for now and he stands at your door, waiting for you to go inside. “Be ready by five, we should leave early.”

“Alright,” He nods and walks away before stopping midstep. “Sleep well, (Y/n).”

“Goodnight, Damian.” He nods and continues into his room.

—

At five on the dot, Damian knocks on your door. You open it, already dressed and packed. He’s the same, with a large bag slung over his shoulders and an almost happy expression on his face.

“Head downstairs, I need a couple of things.” He hums and turns on his heel while you look around your room. Grabbing one of the first books you’d fallen in love with, you slip it into your bag and then your first-ever sketchbook.

Once you’re downstairs, Alfred hands you a metal mug with your favorite breakfast drink, then a neatly wrapped breakfast sandwich, and then a light lunch. He knows you won’t stay for breakfast and wishes you farewell. You thank him and load up the minivan, Damian sits in the passenger seat and you have to question if he should be in the back. And in a booster seat.

For some reason, you don’t think he’d take to sitting in a booster seat.

Driving off, you play calm music and sip your drink. He’s quietly eating next to you, careful to not get crumbs in the car. He falls asleep halfway into the drive, his head hanging in an awkward position so you maneuver to lower the seat for him. He stirs awake, grabbing your wrist as you’re moving away but he drops it once he realizes it’s you and slowly falls back asleep.

Eventually, you reach your farm. A lovely place in a lovely town that has flea markets every Friday and everyone keeps their doors unlocked.

Your land is sectioned off by a lovely oak fence, spreading across the eight acres, a dull red mailbox with the hand up greets you and you check the box. There’s a small package and two letters that you toss onto the dashboard.

Damian wakes up as you’re driving up, his eyes finding the cows and chickens you keep lazily chewing on the grass. He sees a wild fox, chasing a wild rabbit through the lawn, scaring a group of pigs inside of their pen in front of a horse stable.

He sniffs the air, confused. It doesn’t smell like livestock and he knows how livestock farms smell.

“Where are we?” He asks, craning his neck to look behind him. There’s nothing but open fields for miles but he can see a house in the distance.

“My house,” He turns back to you. “I have a homestead— it’s just a fancy word for living on a farm, really.”

“You do believe in botulism, correct?” He sneers, stepping out of the van. You bark a laugh and nod.

“I’m not crazy about it— I just raise my animals and tend to my crops when I’m not out being Veil.”

“Why would you decide to live here?” He asks and you notice his tone isn’t as harsh as it once was. His eyes scan over your fields with a look almost similar to contentment. He looks at the cow with a fondness you can share while you collect your bags. “You’re an assassin, not a farmer.”

“I can be many things,” You shrug. “I’m a farmer, a vigilante, a painter, a former assassin. I’m not bound by one thing. Don’t you have hobbies?”

“I have no time for such trivial matters,” He turns his nose up as he pushes inside the house.

“Ra’s is a doctor on the side. Dick is a detective. Jason takes care of the orphaned kids. Tim runs a company. I’ve seen his skateboard collection. I’ve seen Dick teach gymnastics at the local gyms. Bruce has his charities and all of his foundations. Jason has an enormous collection of books.”

“I only read informative books, anything else is a waste of my time.”

“Maybe,” You shrug. “Let me show you to your room, you’ll settle down and then meet me in the kitchen. Take as much time as you need, there’s no rush.” He nods and you show him to the guest room. It’s incredibly plain but nice. You shut the door behind you and text Bruce that you’ve arrived without any hiccups. He doesn’t reply but you see that he’s read the text and you go about your day.

You have a pair of old working boots from your spouse's nephew visiting; they should fit Damian just fine. Setting them on the bench, you slip yours on and wait for him. He doesn’t take long, walking down with careful eyes until he sees you.

“I assume I’m to wear these?” You nod and he tuts, slipping them on. “What type of training is this?”

“You’re going to learn patience and to enjoy life.” You smile, ruffling his hair before tossing him an egg basket.

“That’s ridiculous.”

—

Dick reacts with hearts as you're sending him pictures of Damian collecting duck and chicken eggs. Videos of him milking cows and cleaning out the pig pens. He’s glad that Damian is having fun, each picture and video seems to have Damian in a better mood. You send him pictures of his drawings and he remarks that he’s already talented with a pencil. You don’t tell him that he’s gotten into reading, too. But you do tell Jason, swearing him to secrecy.

You look up at Damian as he sits on your porch, an easel and canvas in front of him as he paints your backyard. It’s only been three days but you’d like to think you’ve made an impression on him. He’s woken up earlier than you to feed the animals, he enjoys talking to them and tells you that your defenses are subpar. So you took him into town to grab items to make your fence stronger.

He hated when the townsfolk would coo at him, remark that he’s such a strong boy for carrying the wood and bags while you carried the metal and other bags. You wonder how he’s going to like the flea market. You hope it won’t be overwhelming for him; you know it was for you the first time you went.

“What happens when they die?” He suddenly asks, still painting one of your cows. Looking up from your phone, you stare at the back of his head and then the painting.

“You know how I’m a metahuman, right?” He nods. “I can… see how much longer anything living has. And I can communicate with animals, so, I tell them. I tell them that they don’t have much longer. Sometimes they ask to be left in peace. To die naturally. Other times they tell me to get it over with; they’re ready. If they ask that, I’ll�� take them to the butcher. They agree, of course.”

“So the meat we’ve eaten these past days…”

“That was from my chicken Mile and my cow Dan-Loop.”

“Why? How could you?” You notice that his grip on the paintbrush is tightening and you inch closer to him.

“Because it’s what they wanted. They know they’re farm animals, they know that humans eat their meat. They know. And some of them don’t care. They live happily here. And I give them the option of what they want to do. One time, one of my pigs was dying and SeaSaw told them that he wanted to be released. Travel as far as he could before he returned to the Earth. I watched that pig run and run for a while before he turned and looked at me. He thanked me and went up that hill and stared at the sunset.”

“Isn’t it hard?” He asks. “Raising all these animals knowing you’re going to outlive them.”

“It is. But I also know that I’m giving them an amazing life. It’s better than them being stuck in cruel mills. They’re seen and heard. And trust me, if those ducks and chickens were angry, your hand would be picked at for trying to take their eggs.” Damian nods, looking down at you. You’re looking at your animals, taking in the setting sun.

“Do you think father would let me start a farm?”

“Maybe. Ask him on a good day. If he does, you can take Jerry. He likes you,” Damian beams, knowing exactly which animal you’re talking about.

“Okay, thank you.”

—

“Why did you leave and come here?” Damian asks as you’re driving to the flea market. “You mentioned you couldn’t stand being around father.” The question makes you think about your years with Bruce, all the things he’d taught, and the things you spent years unlearning. Things weren’t all bad with Bruce, though. You still cherish your fond memories like the first time he’d taken you to the ice cream parlor or when he’d taken you to the Monterey Bay Aquarium after he saw you watching Nemo too many times in a row for it to be a simple obsession.

“Bruce and I have a complicated history. And sometimes, to love someone, you need to stay away. I can’t see your father too often; it’s too painful. I care about him; I’m sure he cares about me but it’s too much. We’re too different. And coming here was like…” You purse your lips. “I was finally free from what I'd become. I could live a separate life from my place in the family. I had no obligations here; I made it my own.”

“What’s your place?” He asks, sparing you a glance.

“I wasn’t the best at what I did. I was angry, a lot. I don’t know if you’ve met yet, but Mr. Fox would say I was moodier than Bruce. I was violent; I wasn’t sure of my place in any of this. I kept trying to prove myself to Bruce but I kept failing. I felt like a mistake for a long while.” He looks down at his lap, messing with his jeans before he speaks up again.

“What made that feeling go away?”

“Getting hobbies.” You admit. “I drew a lot. I made friends. I got closer to Dick and Jason. I removed Bruce from that pedestal and saw him for the man he is. Not as the man I wanted him to be.”

“What man is he?”

“He’s like us. He’s flawed and he makes mistakes. He’s not perfect and neither are we. We’re all trying. Now, come on. Your father gave you five thousand so you can buy whatever you want.”

He smiles and grabs the bag from the dashboard, leaving you in the dust while he admires the homemade objects people are selling.

#x male reader #x reader #damian wayne x male reader #damian wayne x you #batfam x reader #damian wayne x brother reader

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ekingston · 20 hours ago

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Hello! So sorry to bother, but have you had any updates on the Word-Stream/Speechify situation?

Just one: like I posted on Xitter and Bluesky last night, as of yesterday afternoon, the links to individual works as they were listed on WordStream are gone from both Google and Bing. Hurray, right? Surely we’re all sick of this whole debacle and there’s far more important things to worry about. If all is well that ends well, surely there’s no need to still be angry.

Well, I am. Here’s why:

When I checked on Wednesday, the links to my own work on WordStream were still listed. So rather than it taking a week after Cliff Weitzman first hid the fanwork from view, it took a little over a week from the moment he first promised privately that they would be deleted. Which, fine. Perhaps Cliff didn’t really know what he was talking about when he gave that timeframe. Or maybe he told a little white lie to create the impression that he always intended to do the right thing. It seems more likely to me, though, that Cliff still believed—even after the backlash he received—that he would get away with honoring only individual takedown requests. Or worse, that he needed just a little bit more time with the stolen material to figure out an alternative way to profit off it—preferably without us noticing, this time.

But who knows? I certainly don’t! All we can do is speculate, because publicly, Cliff Weitzman has remained completely silent on his copyright infringements. All we got was the initial justifications he and his sockpuppet accounts used in comments on the original Reddit and Tumblr posts. After those were so understandably ill-received, Cliff only ever communicated with a few individual authors who contacted him directly and repeatedly, blocking people who addressed the issue on Twitter and quietly distancing himself from WordStream by deleting a blog he’d posted to Speechify.com dated December 20th—where Cliff promoted WordStream’s platform specifically to fanfiction readers. (See my enormous timeline post for details and screenshots of said posts before they were taken down.)

And this is why I’m still angry: As long as Cliff Weitzman faces no real consequences for his actions, he won’t see a need to own up to his mistake; and as long as he’s able to delay taking responsibility, this isn’t over. This didn’t end well.

After all, wasn’t this the next-best scenario for Cliff, second only to him turning WordStream into a (for him) effortless, infinite money-making machine? He took something we provided for free and fed it to AI so he could more easily put it behind a paywall; we found out and protested; Cliff quietly erased all evidence of his crime; and we went—almost equally quietly—away.

I want to make sure you know that I continue to be genuinely amazed and intensely grateful for how quickly the news about WordStream’s copyright infringement was shared—and continues to be shared—throughout fandom, on tumblr in particular. If it hadn’t been for our collective outcry here and on Reddit, WordStream would very likely still be up in its original form, and Weitzman would be reaping the benefits (those subscription prices were steep) today.

But it’s been frustrating to see that, with the exception of mentions in articles on Substack and Fansplaining (the latter of which is a particularly awesome and thorough read on fandom’s decontextualization) and a Fanlore listing, our outrage never really spilled out beyond the safely insulated, out-of-the-way spaces that are tumblr, a handful of subreddits and bluesky. And I believe that—unfortunately—we are collectively responsible for that part, as well.

Most of us seemed content to only spread the word by circulating the same two posts on tumblr. (Have we all given up completely on every other social media platform? Am I the only remaining straggler?) And soon after Cliff Weitzman hid WordStream’s fanfiction category from view, our interest in the issue took a sharp dive even there. Are we genuinely deceived into believing the issue has been fully resolved? Do we truly fail to realize that Weitzman’s refusal to admit that what he did was wrong left the door wide open for the next greed-driven tech bro to wander through? Or is the true naivety in thinking that, as a community, we can keep this kind of attack on fandom from happening again? Has our disillusionment already gotten that bad?

However the situation spins out from here, Cliff’s actions will set a precedent. If we fail to show Cliff and his ilk that attempts to profit off fandom’s unpaid labor have consequences, their tech companies will keep trying until something eventually sticks. They might be a little smarter about it next time; obscure their sources a bit better, maybe leave the titles and the authors’ names off. Or maybe they’ll go a bolder route: maybe next time they cross the line they’ll do it boldly enough for IP holders to take notice and stop tolerating fanwork entirely.

Doesn’t that make you angry, too?

There’s this whole other mess of thoughts I would love to be able to untangle about how commercial influence is contributing to the steady erosion of fandom’s foundations, but I’m tired, and other people have said it all much more eloquently than I ever could. Seriously, go read that article on Fansplaining. Or listen to the podcast version of it. Better yet, as long as you’re wearing your noise-canceling headphones, go listen to a podfic of one of your favorite fandoms’ works, and enjoy the collaborative joy and creativity of the people who Cliff Weitzman refuses to believe exist. (In one of Speechify’s other blogs, Cliff claims there are only 272 podfics on AO3. Would you like to run that ChatGPT prompt again, Cliff?). Honestly, much like Cliff Weitzman’s infuriating denial of the fact that fandom fucking has this covered, thank you very much, there’s so. Many. More. Things for us to talk about. There’s the connotations of WordStream’s dubious ‘upload’ button, for instance, or the fact that the app scraped (and in some cases, allegedly, still lists) copyright-protected original fiction as well, or WordStream’s complete lack of contact information, which is illegal for an internationally operating app. And oh! Has anyone reported more thoroughly on Cliff’s app’s options to ‘simplify’ or ‘modernize’ uploaded works, or—my own very favorite abomination—to translate them into something Cliff calls ‘Gen-Z Language’? Much like his atrocious AI book covers, it would be hilarious, if it didn’t make steam come out of my ears.

Anyway, there it is. I highly recommend you do all of that. And then, if you aren’t familiar with it already, go do some research re: fair use and your rights as the copyright owner of your works. A good number of people commenting on this controversy expressed stunned surprise or fearful hesitation about claiming any sort of ownership of their fanfiction. The more informed we are about our rights, the more willing we will be to defend them.

Please don’t stop writing or sharing your work. If you can’t bring yourself to work on your WIPs today (trust me, I get it), post about this situation instead. Tweets, skeets, whateverthefucks—about WordStream’s theft, about how this reflects on Speechify’s already shady business practices, about how Cliff’s actions and justifications have personally affected you. You’re welcome to share or copy my posts on these platforms, but since Cliff already blocked me, I very much prefer you post your own. If you do, call Cliff Weitzman by his full name and tag or include both WordStream and Speechify to ensure Weitzman will recognize he has both a personal as well as a professional stake in handling the situation with integrity. Leave your concerns in reviews on the Speechify app. (We weren’t provided with a more appropriate place to put them, after all!) Consider calling for a Speechify boycott until Cliff accepts accountability for his actions.

Do avoid making exaggerated claims, and don’t call for physical retaliation against Cliff’s person or his property. We don’t want to give him or Speechify even the weakest of grounds to claim defamation or threats of violence. Focus on the facts: they’re incriminating enough by themselves. Show Cliff that we’re determined to keep bringing up his company’s wrongdoings in public spaces until he demonstrates that he understands why taking these freely shared fanworks and monetizing them was wrong, and takes steps to ensure it won’t happen again.

One last thing—and this is really more of a general reminder—please stop suggesting I handle this situation for you. People have come to me asking for action items. The resulting flashbacks to my days as an office assistant were extremely upsetting. In all seriousness, casting me as some sort of coordinator or driving force behind this backlash actively hurts the cause. Not only does it downplay fandom’s collective efforts, it also makes our message extremely vulnerable. It would be all too easy for Cliff to silence one singular source. Wikipedia will not maintain mentions of this controversy as long as it leads only to Easter Kingston’s attempt to summarize what happened as it was happening. You only know my name because I stumbled upon WordStream’s theft and decided to get my friends involved. I am not more knowledgeable, more skilled or more angrily invested in this issue than you are (or can, or should, be). I draw pictures and I write stories and I worry about the shift I’m seeing in fandom after having been on this ride for even a few pre-livejournal rounds.

I’m not going to stop doing any of those things. But I am going to allow myself to step away for a bit, make my wife dinner, and catch up on our shows.

I trust you’ve got it from here.

#word-stream #cliff weitzman #plagiarism #speechify #AO3 #writers on tumblr #fanfiction #independent authors #web scraping #fandom activism #ask me things!#(which is my ask tag please don’t send me asks about things i’ve already answered in the main post)#anonymous

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inkshine · 3 days ago

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I can't stop thinking about the concept of various Arcane characters breaking the fourth wall and addressing the audience somehow. No matter who you imagine would do this, it would be an absolutely haunting moment, no matter how brief.

Jinx: Hi! Then her smile softens, saddens, grows wearier. Hi. Hi. You're still watching, huh? After-she gestures with her pistol-all that? You're still here... (If Jinx talks for longer, I don't think it would happen during one of her hallucinations, she should be absolutely, almost frighteningly, lucid when speaking to the audience)

Vi: So you saw all that, and you just...watched?

Silco: I mostly pictured Silco going into some lengthy soliloquy about something philosophical, and then ending it with looking directly into the camera and saying: "But you already knew that, didn't you?" If he is genuinely aware of the fact that he is a fictional character in this moment, it is not clear what his thoughts on this matter are. None of his thoughts ever are.

Ekko: I'm not sure what Ekko would say, but I think he would directly address the audience to narrate something about the Firelights, about hope, and the future, and pain. He is clearly in pain while talking to the audience, seemingly a little bitter about our role in just watching him suffer. Vi would probably be similar, if her response was more lengthy.

Mel: Mel, similar to Silco, would also probably choose to briefly meditate on philosophy and her own life, or maybe even sound like she's giving a speech. She is the daughter of Ambessa Medarda, and a Councilor, after all. And given that she has us briefly under her power, even in this odd capacity, would want to make every word count.

Jayce: It happens when Jayce is giving one of his speeches, or maybe when he's trapped in the bad timeline in season two, or maybe a combination of the two-he's exhausted to the point of delirium, and thinks he's giving a speech to Piltover, when the thousands of eyes on him are actually that of the show's audience. He talks about Progress. He talks about mistakes. He talks about love.

Viktor: It happens either when he's one of his states between life and death, or when he's ascended in season two, and I feel the second option is more likely. He has a lot to say about the matter of perspective, and the paths we take in life.

Isha: Isha's spirit is sitting peacefully next to Jinx on the airship. She looks at the camera. She begins to sign. She talks about the unpredictability of life, and love. She seems melancholy and poignant.

Bonus:

Heimerdinger: Heimerdinger, upon seeing the "camera", seems stunned and mesmerized at first, but then just waves.

Sevika: Sevika sees the "camera" and stares at it for a long time in silence with a completely unreadable look. She then says something about still having work to do, things still needing to be accomplished. She walks away, but she is looking at the "camera" over her shoulder the whole time.

#ramblings #feel free to add on #arcane #arcane jinx #arcane silco #arcane vi #arcane isha #arcane sevika #arcane heimerdinger #arcane spoilers #arcane series finale #arcane jayce #arcane viktor #arcane season 2 #arcane season two spoilers #arcane season 2 spoilers #arcane s2 #arcane s2 spoilers

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raayllum · 20 hours ago

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What Is Up With Humans, and a Brief History of Xadia

Because season seven gave us two important pieces of the puzzle and while we still don't have a full picture, I'm at least willing to try to assemble them. Let's go.

Elves and Dragons or First Elves vs Dragons

Previously to season 6, I'd speculated that the Archdragons and the First elves were peers. This was due to certain similar language used to describe them ("Oh Zubeia, your heavenly majesty" / "our adversary was literally a being from the heavens") as well as association: "In the name of the dragons and the First Elves" (4x03). It also provided an interesting contrast of the 'most powerful' elves and dragons being allied with one another, whereas the other elves were more subservient to the dragons (acting as the Dragonguard, bringing gifts, elements of worship) if not also enforcing their will over them (the Drake riders).

And it seemed, thanks to season 6, that this was straightforwardly confirmed. The Archdragons, even the draconic monarchy, worked alongside the Cosmic Council to maintain the Cosmic Order, per Leola's execution utilizing the Dragon Prince, Anak Araw, as a witness for something the Council hadn't even, perhaps, directly seen as it happened. Continuing into season seven, this association was maintained without any real hiccups. Aaravos states that "the dragons and the elves, all the arrogant fools blinded by the searing light of their own self-righteousness. They stand high, and they will fall hard" (7x01).

There's a little inclination that maybe things weren't always peaceful between the First Elves and Archdragons, given that the bite of the latter can destroy the mortal vessel of the former, but we don't have any conflict confirmed until we get to 7x07, and then boy do we.

3,000 years ago, we know of at least one battle between an archdragon and a first elf. We also know that Laurelion was battling the creature in their mortal form, hence why it could be (temporarily) destroyed, even if we don't know how long it'd take for their stars to re-align. We also don't know what they were fighting over. Perhaps who'd have control over the Earth, or Laurelion, protecting humanity from a destructive Archdragon — except...

Humans (see those consistently five fingers?) forged the Nova Blade, uniquely made to kill First Elves' mortal forms. Whatever conflict was happening, humans were ultimately more on the Archdragons' side than the Stars', and utilized what would become a basis for dark magic later — using a magical creature's body part — to forge a sword of great power.

It casts this line from Ziard in a new light, to say the least, whether it was genuine or just snide snark either way:

(More on Elarion and timeline things in a bit.)

We don't know, of course, whether Laurelion and Shiruakh's battle was unique and singular and individual, the beginning or culmination of a long drawn out conflict, or if other Archdragons and First Elves were battling one another. Just because humans were creating something to take down Startouch elves doesn't mean they were on the dragons' side either, or what magical (or non-magical) status they had at the time, 3000 years ago. But we do know, at one point since then and before Elarion a thousand years later, the First Elves and Archdragons came together to create and enforce the Cosmic Order, as Aaravos states:

To create a system that worked for them as a unit, and worked against humans. And while an oppressive system doesn't need a ('justified') reason to oppress beyond "having people on the bottom means you get to stay on top" this is where we get into the meta-narrative of it all.

Season Six: Revealing the Hand of God

The meta-narrative, or metafiction, is a form of fiction that emphasizes its own narrative structure in a way that inherently reminds the audience that they are reading or viewing a fictional work. The pulling back of the curtain, or when stories emphasize storytelling (think Hamilton following a character who's constantly worried about if, or how, his story will be told... while you are actively watching it be told.) Think of how different ATLA would be, for example, if we knew directly how the Avatar was chosen, and therefore got into the ethicals of some grand being putting a burden uniquely on the shoulders of a young child, compared to "this is just the story's worldbuilding, and we don't know how it's chosen."

Or, in other words, TDP's writers creating a purposefully unfair magical system in which to explore the conflicts that system would create (because stories are often thought experiments) but with no one in-universe to blame for that system. It just is. Or, I should say, it just was.

Putting characters in your story who Chose who got magic, or who didn't (and the consequences of it) when those choices were fundamentally Unfair, creates someone that we, the audience, and the characters, can blame for that unfair system. There is someone to be angry at. There is someone to hold accountable. The Cosmic Council decided, for whatever reason, to give magic, or create beings (elves) that had magic, and to have beings who not only don't, but cannot and should not have magic. And it was consciously decided, by people who exist within the story and within the narrative, not just by the outside hand of god creators, that humans would not.

Was this punishment for crafting the Nova Blade, and the humans (or magic-less elves?) who did side with the First Elves against the archdragons were given magic and became the primal elves (everyone but the stars)? But if that's the case, why and how did the First Elves and Archdragons — the latter previously possibly being allies of the humans — become united against humans? Did the Archdragons throw humans under the bus when the dust settled? Were the Archdragons angry at humans for, presumably, crafting the Scale of Shiruakh into a weapon as well? (We know that First Elves rarely take mortal form; was it different Before, and Nova Blade happy wielding humans gave them the incentive to stay more up into the heavens?)

We also know that pre-Fall of Elarion, the humans thought that the Stars would save them from the dragons...:

Elarion, fading bloom, afraid to wilt and dim and die, she searched the dark for but a spark and caught the dragons’ hungry eye. Elarion, frightened waif, reached bone-white branches to the night, the stars she asked their light to cast and stop the dragons’ fiery might.1

It happened long ago, when humans had only just learned to hold fire in their hands without burning. They nurtured their precious primal flames secretly—in the dark of night, beneath shadows and shrouds—as cultivating its glow drew the eyes and ire of monsters. Eventually, for the audacity of their fire, they were hunted, and—though they looked to the stars for salvation—the stars, too, looked down upon them with disdain. [...] It cannot be, wept others. The stars would not betray us!2

The dragons directly, not the Stars, had become the enemy of humans over primal magic usage, even though humans made the Nova Blade, and even though the dragons had once been allies, making it seem like an 180 switch happened in the interim. And we do know (although this could've been Leola) that eventually the stars did help humans, even if they did so without caring:

And so the humans learned to wait. They stared into the inky black above, patiently waiting for the stars to share their knowledge, their guidance, their brilliant light—and one day, the heavens finally reached for them. Held them. Blessed them. The humans rejoiced. We are saved, they cried. The stars have finally answered us! We were right to be patient—we were right to wait!3

It makes me wonder whether the Archdragons at the time made the decision for humans to not have magic, and the Stars agreed to enforce it, or whether it was the opposite / mutual.

Moving on: whatever the agreement between them was, one thing held fast of consciously choosing to deprive humans of primal magic, and then doing their best to maintain that deprivation.

Then it all changed, and an Order that hinged so completely on humans not having (primal) magic, at having humans at the bottom of the hierarchy, that it was irreparably broken, seemingly, by just a tiny taste of it, passing from Leola to her human friends.

This act, however motivated, is the beginning of the end. The start of the long slow spiral to chaos. (6x09) / So it is only fitting that I deliver their fear, the Great Unravelling, in Leola's name. (7x06)

My first part of the over arching theory I'm working towards, then, is that the Cosmic Order was made to keep elves and dragons and even archdragons in line, yes, but primarily to keep humans in line.

But why? What is it about humans that make them so unique, or dangerous, that they need to be 'supervised'? Well, I think it went further than

More Than Primal Magic

We know thanks to Callum and other sources (Ripples) that humans can connect to arcanums, and can connect to more than one, with Aaravos being our only example of an elf having more than one arcanum. It begs the question of, if Callum could do it, if there was any truly stopping from humans from acquiring it due to their nature (i.e. cuddlemonkeys like Stella are also born without arcanums, and then connect due to their environmental factors). But that's a post for another day, and I think that "humans connecting to primal magic" is only part of what scared the Cosmic Council.

And what I'm about to propose is, admittedly, both a simplistic and complicated answer for what was so special about humans. (It is also somewhat inspired by a HTTYD fanfic called "Hitchups" I read 11 years ago as a worldbuilding concept, so go figure). However, the more I turned it over in my head, the more I felt like it best reflected what we've seen throughout the series so far, so here it is.

Humans are dangerous because they have Imagination.

And I know on first glance that seems and sounds stupid, but bear with me. Humans, specifically, seem to have more the ability in-universe to imagine new, better, possibilities than we see from the elves and dragons, without prompting in the same manner. Whether it's the human gazing upon the new Sea of the Cast Out...

The wisest of the humans looked upon the water. His own reflection smiled back at him, and he dared to imagine what such power would feel like in his own hands, should he be allowed to hold it. Imagine, he thought, if I were more than what I am.

or Harrow's urgings to Callum, a son who already dreamed of peace even without knowing of the living dragon egg (which is what Rayla and Zubeia needed to get to the same place):

Callum, who believes that primal magic for himself is possible, even when every elf around him disagrees, and then he's right. Or Rayla's reflections on Callum, yes, but humans at large, as though elves struggle routinely with doing the same (and they do, constantly harkening back to the past otherwise):

The human kicked dirt at her, and Rayla scraped at her eyes, angry—infuriated, even. Humans were frustrating. Humans were clever. Humans could do anything, they could be anything, they could take their own fates and change them—4

Rayla, who offers up her gift of sacrifice to Rex Igneous to be the same like everything before, and it's only through Ezran's thought process and Barius' invention that it turns into anything else. Anything new, or successful.

Or the Orphan Queen, who alone sees through Aaravos' eyes, and then manages to convince everyone else who loved him that he's a traitor, who saw the possibility no one else were able to consider. Or the Jailer, who was tasked with creating the prison as opposed to just a primal elf mage, like one couldn't.

REX IGNEOUS: Long ago, it was a human who saw through the Fallen Star's schemes, and helped Xadia put an end to them. (4x08) AKIYU: I was visited by a human mage who called herself the Jailer. The Archdragons had given the Jailer a daunting task to design a magical prison that could hold a Startouch elf. She needed my powers to craft the prison itself. [...] The puzzle is the real prison, she told me with a proud smile. (5x05)

In this, the humans taught me another lesson.5 [...] Aaravos thinks that if he cared for the idea [of birthdays], he’d like to remember the taste of a smooth red fruit a human had plucked from a tree for him, once. It had been so crisp, and so sweet.6

And this idea — that while elves can, humans are better at introducing New Ideas, is not a new one either. Although we see Rayla, Janai, and other Xadian creatures think of ideas/plans, they are usually still operating within the means of what they Know to be possible—to use illusions as a Moonshadow elf, to cut Amaya's line off, to use their lightning abilities or strength—as opposed to what is half-started or unlikely (the bulk of Callum's magic in season 1, and again in 3x09). And we see this best through the way that humans, 9/10, are the ones who introduce Breaking the Cycle to Xadian creatures. We see this with not-so-great ideas as well: humans do the thing, and Xadians eventually copy them.

Now, some of this is an oversimplification, of course. Dragons and elves do introduce some new ideas to human characters, teach them magic/spells, and take new ideas from one another. Callum is usually more optimistic and likely to see a new spin on things than Rayla, for example, but Rayla is the one who sees Esmeray as something other than a monster. Most of the time, though, when elves or dragons are influencing human characters though, it is through revealing information (the scale necklace; Esmeray and Luna Tenebris; that Aaravos can possess people; Terry with Aaravos' plans, etc), not necessarily inventing new perspectives.

Meanwhile, humans reveal information a good deal of the time too: Ezran discovers and shares that the egg wasn't destroyed at all; Callum finds the truth of whether Rayla's parents ran away; the Orphan Queen, as noted, revealed Aaravos' treachery; and Corvus can tell that something is up with that island (7x01).

Elves, meanwhile, tend to be much more... follower-esque. Runaan does not kill unless he is ordered to ("and then Callum will decide if you live or die"). Karim believes in Janai as queen, and treats her as such, and even when he is pushing for his own rule, it is doing so in subsequent open service to Sol Regem and then Aaravos as greater authorities ("What would you have me do? Where would you have me go?" / "You pushed me to this, sister"). The elves who don't, or aren't, usually have more human influence on their lives: Amaya and Ezran with Janai; Callum, Ezran, and Amaya with Rayla, etc.

But the stars kept from them one secret still: that their first lesson—patience—was not a gift of the stars at all. You see, patience is a lesson the humans taught themselves. [...] But I have heard the lesson of the humans. I know patience well.

And this imagination to dream, build, create, to forge, to pursue with determination, makes them less predictable. They don't have arcanums: they don't have anything they intrinsically 'know' to shape them the way elves and magical creatures, and so they can know nothing; they can know anything, and that makes them much harder to control and look over, even for those who are Timeblind (as the Cosmic Council likely is). Especially since, per the apple, it seems that yes maybe Aaravos shared the gift of magic with humans by his own admission, and maybe helped to develop dark magic... but I do wonder if humans invented it, regardless. What Startouch elf would need self-eating, after all?

As a final point for this section: even Aaravos giving humans magic wasn't his idea. Humans likely saw Leola do primal magic and learned from it themselves > to her giving them enough to make a significant difference. Then Aaravos took what had already happened, then twisted and did it again. Moreover, Aaravos plots and plans and relies on people's predictability in order to manipulate them; he may hate the Cosmic Council, but he's still fundamentally acting like them, enforcing pre-determined destinies onto other characters, Sir Sparklepuff, Sol Regem, Viren, and his other pawns chief among them.

If humans are unique among Xadia for reasons beyond magic, then them rejecting the destiny of the stars, Aaravos included, is the ultimate way to write their own destiny and rewrite the system to be truly equitable (hi Callum with Aaravos' key and a literal leaning book of destiny?) and I think that's pretty cool.

A Detour: Aaravos' De-Powering

Back on the note of "the Cosmic Order and Council we see presented in S6 is not the way things always were" from before, I want to talk about Aaravos' de-powering. Specifically, both of them. Again, we tread into speculation territory here (because when do we not when it comes to the deep lore) but bear with me.

In the pre-S6 posters of him and his cube/book, Aaravos wears the same crown as the rest of the Cosmic Council. We don't know enough about Startouch elves to know if they all wear them, or just the Cosmic Council, or if every Startouch elf besides Aaravos is on the council anyway, with his classic bangles and even fancier outfit.

But by the time we see Aaravos in S6, he doesn't have his crown. This could be something he relinquished by choice, a side effect of residing on earth (though he has no trouble going to the 'council' room for lack of a better term), or otherwise stripped from him. This could be what made him less powerful than the rest of the council.

We know that the Cosmic Council didn't leave right away after primal magic was given, either. It was only when Elarion had grown from a fledging to a thriving city thanks to primal magic, and the dragons seemingly took issue, that the Stars left and Aaravos remained. We don't know why for either choice, beyond Aaravos wanting to stay and 'help' humanity (ie. get closer to the Great Unravelling):

Elarion, unworthy whelp, Wept as the stars turned black the sky, They donned their masks They turned their backs, And left Elarion to die. Elarion, dying husk, did wilt and whimper in the dark, ‘till the last star Reached from afar His touch: a blaze, a gift, a spark.

But as @kradogsrats pointed out, perhaps the Cosmic Council left because they were afraid. We see time and time again that fear, when listened to, is a turning point for people leaving: Soren ("I don't want to do this. I'm afraid"), Rayla (afraid of what Viren might do to the world and Callum), Lissa ("she was afraid, she said no"), Terry (of becoming someone he's not), and of more isolationist behaviour. Janai becomes demanding in 6x02 ("Take your masks off, I want to see what you are truly feeling. You are... afraid?"), asks Karim "what are you so afraid of?" in 4x02, to which he responds with permanent integration. And others who overrule fear — "Of course he was afraid, but you had a job to do!" / "It won't follow because it's afraid of me" — being antagonistic because of it.

Aaravos — who the other First Elves at least trusted — doing / becoming something awful, which causes them to turn and run. Maybe they're more de-powered than we think (we are assuming, after all, that they're at the full height of their abilities and can kill him, neither of which may be necessarily true). Aaravos states in 'Patience' that "I have not seen the stars in centuries. But when I see them again—when the stars are forced to look upon me, their dark brother" and the Epic of the Void poem in Tales of Xadia ponders:

Where do the fabled Great Ones hide? What secrets have you locked inside? [...] Of Starfolk, fabled, fallen, found— Once everywhere, now none around. Is all we are to know of thee Consumed by Dark, or cast to Sea? So bound to Earth, are we denied The touch of Stars? Have our Gods died? Where do the fabled Great Ones hide?

So, seemingly, there was the removal of Aaravos from the council, then something that made him be 'Fallen,' and that includes why he can't just access the First Elves wherever they are now the way he could before. With all this in mind, onto the 'conclusion'.

So What's the Point?

Quick timeline run down:

5,000 years ago: First Elves and 'ordinary' elves are separate. There are Archdragons and humans. Only First elves and archdragons, presumably, have magic.

3000 years ago: Laurelion and Shiruakh have their battle. More fighting between the archdragons and first elves may be ongoing. Humans forge the Nova Blade and presumably the scale armour.

Between 3000 and 2000 years ago: Primal elves are made distinctive. Aaravos is higher up in Startouch 'society'? First elves are more regularly walking around on the mortal plain. Aaravos has his first de-powering. Leola gives humans magic and is executed. Anak Araw is the Dragon Prince and Aaravos' goal of vengeance is born.

2000 years ago: Elarion is thriving under primal magic with humanity. Dragons (and possibly first elves) don't like it. The First Elves leave (ish). Sometime in the next 800 years Aaravos robs the Starscraper, taking a singular staff and a quasar diamond and gives humanity dark magic.

1200 years ago: Sol Regem is Dragon King. The Staff of Ziard is gifted, sowing chaos. Stand off with Ziard happens.

1000 years ago: Luna Tenebris is the Dragon Queen. Humanity is exiled to the west under the Judgement of the Half Moon, potentially after poaching all the unicorns. The Mage Wars happen, with the Staff passing through many hands, with Xadia not stepping in to stop any of it.

300 years ago: Luna Tenebris is murdered, throwing the archdragons into a succession crisis. Queen Aditi mysteriously vanishes (aka is eaten by Aaravos) before she can resolve it. The Mage Wars end (?) possibly because of Aaravos' imprisonment thanks to the Orphan Queen. She acquires the Key of Aaravos and passes it down her new royal line; the Jailer presumably keeps the staff and passes it down her occupational line of high mage of Katolis.

The one wiggling thought is that Ziard states that "One of the great ones" gave him the staff in 3x01, implying that more than just Aaravos are still around, but Sol Regem being pissed does imply that he knew it was Aaravos directly. Speaking of Sol Regem, I get the sense that he knew more than he was letting on, given that he tattled on Leola, hated humans but grew much more bitter as he progressed towards modern day (no more offers of mercy or bargaining), and his distaste for Aaravos despite not being involved in imprisoning him with the other Archdragons. The fact that he has the bleakest view on Xadia ("You think I can reign and fix what is broken in Xadia? No one can save it") and is the one Archdragon we know was canonically old enough to be contemporaries with the First Elves does not help matters, either.

I suppose what this all amounts to is that, with both the Archdragons and humanity (allied or not), First Elves faced a lot more conflict on the mortal plain than maybe first considered, before things evened out to something more stable and reverent. Humans were made to be distinct from primal elves on purpose, but in a flawed manner (i.e. they can connect to arcanums Anyway), possibly in a way that inspired Aaravos to do the same if he wasn't inherently connected (which is perhaps what his book used to be as a conduit). First Elves might've left because they were freaking terrified, and not necessarily just indifferent.

Meanwhile, the more you look at humans, the more they're beautiful freaks of nature within Xadia, and while they've undoubtedly done fucked up things in pursuit of magic and power/protection, we know Aaravos stoked the Mage Wars, and it also wouldn't surprise me if certain facts (like the unicorn extinction) was the responsibility of other parties in Xadia in congruence, rather than just on their shoulders. Unreliable narrators and all that + even when they were present, the Cosmic Council seemingly wasn't doing much, relying on Sol Regem both to report to them and to serve as a witness, and then doing fuck all about Aaravos when shit actually hit the fan. Maybe Aaravos and his quasi-human army hyped on primal magic freaked them out.

Uh. Thoughts?

#tdp #tdp meta #the dragon prince #analysis series #deep lore dive #worldbuilding #analysis #i wrote this all in one day don't look at me #s7 spoilers

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justbelievinginmagic · 21 hours ago

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BEWITCHED - part 1: we're not in munchkinland anymore.

pairing(s): witch!seonghwa x witch!reader ft. honjoong & san. mini-series summary: all your life you've had this spark - a touch of magic to your heart. as a munchkinlander, it was both a blessing and a curse. after all, two horrible witches had ruled over the land - all your life you had been asked: would you be a good witch or a bad witch? you wanted to be a good witch. and, finally, you would be! the day arrived; you were going to shiz university, the most-esteemed magical college in oz! you were prepared to work hard and make your dreams come true. but when you stumble upon cold bullies and an even colder sorcerer-in-training named park seonghwa who seemed to captivate you at every turn, will you be able to achieve your magical goals or will you fall under his spell? warnings/tags: inspired by the musical and movie adaptation of wicked, magical college AU, wizard of oz AU, set at shiz university, fem!reader, 3rd person POV, use of YN, set after a divergent-wicked timeline (where the wizard or a wizard still rules), magic, angst, some bullying, oz references and lore, use of ozian vernacular, nervousness, second-hand embarrassment, mentions of panties/corset, name calling. let me know if there are more tags needed. word count: ~4.5k

It had been known throughout Oz, for as long as the Time Dragon Clock tick-tocked, that the only place to become a grand sorcerer was Shiz University. Established, expensive, and exclusivatory, the university was known throughout the land as the cradle to success. Anyone who wanted to be anything went there – or to the Wizard to have their heart’s desire granted. But, of course, a meeting with the Wizard was rare. So, the only other option to success was hard work. Work hard to one day get to Shiz University.

Staring up at the ancient buildings of Shiz, YN couldn’t help but feel a rush of exhilaration. She had made it. Spiraling towers, open-air patios, water canals weaving in and out of the architecture, she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t in Munchkinland anymore.

A shoulder bumped into her, making her huff and stumble over the aged tiles. She righted herself with a small huff, a familiar zing in her chest making her pause and take a deep breath. That was the last thing she needed to happen. The bustling crowds of students surrounded her like a sea. Some in the perfectly-pressed navy-blue jackets and horizontal-striped uniform dresses of Shiz with the silver-stitched emblem proud across their chest. Others were like her, dressed in their best-to-impress as they entered the grand corridors of Shiz as a new student. It reminded her of stories of masquerades in grand ballrooms – their outfits were all so different and extravagant. Pinks of the lightest shades, deep-rubied vermillion, bright yellows, all in the strangest textures and designs. Far different from her own dress fabric but never the less fantasticamagical!

YN felt out of place like a lost air balloon amongst the clouds. Clinging to her luggage case, she took a tentative step away from the open-air waterfront. As she moved ever forward into the college, she realized just how different everything was here. The air was cool and humid; the sound of sea-salt water trickling between the canal-filled paths babbled; there was the smell of fresh-Ozma petals blooming on the large leaf-pads floating across the shimmering water. It was really nothing like Munchkinland, and its sprawling country-sides. There was no smell of Ozwheat-ground bread, of fresh upturned soil, fragrant tulips in every shade of the rainbow, or the towering blossom stalks of sweet-flowers.

It was strange.

Swallowing, she hugged her brown suitcase closer and continued to walk further into Shiz. The honey-soft yellow of the buildings was complimented by a once-royal, now-pastel blue in the awnings and in delicate hand-painted décor across the buildings. Sunshine flickered past the shingled rooftops to cast the center of Shiz in a golden glow. It was beautiful. A different beautiful than what she was used to, but an optimistic jingle in her heart said she could like it here.

Another person pushed past her purposely, and this time it sent her tumbling to the ground. A laughter grumbled from the crowd, surprised but cruel. A mean-looking girl with a pointy nose laughed as she crowed out, “Watch where you are going, little farm girl!”

“She’s used to being that low to the ground I bet,” another encouraged with a sneer.

YN’s face crumbled at the words. Eyes burning before her face flushed. All her things toppled across the bustling court-yard – her books scattered, her dresses tumbled, her keepsakes rolled. Her suitcase had broken open. The clasp was worn and old compared to the new fancy luggage the rich (but mostly their entourage) toted along, but she didn’t think it was that old.

Embarrassment burned more fervently than that spark in her chest. Her focus to split between the pain of in her knees, the hurt from their words, and the panic of needing to grab her things now.

YN didn’t understand their uttertodious rudeness. She wasn’t the first nor the last to attend Shiz as a Munchkinlander. She hadn’t expected the dirty looks, the cruel laughs, the cold whispers, the foul name-calling. How did they even know she was of Munchkinland? She wasn’t of Munckinland holy blood. She was no Eminent, nor of the upper-class. She was just… YN. Was that so offending? Was it her dress? Was that what they were whispering about behind their hands and falling into giggles? Was it hideoteous compared to the swankified fabrics of the upper-class? She didn’t think so. She had put on her prettiest – a dirndl-esque dress of a deep sapphire. Hand-embroidered vibrant poppies, delicate milk-flowers, and candy-chrysanthemums decorated the hem and décolletage. Fresh flowers decorated her pig-tailed hair; some had begun to wilt in the change of temperature, but they still were prettied pastel yellows, blues, and pinks. Some of those petals now rested on the ground from her fall, crumpled.

She felt the burn flare like embers fanned by a wind. Her book pages rattled in a nonexistent wind unnoticed by the snickering students. Behind her, a man’s voice cleared itself, baritone and rumbly.

“Are you alright?” He asked beside her.

Oh, his voice so melodic it reminded her of the Lullaby League singers that would pass through Munchkinland during the holidays. It reminded her of honey being poured over fresh-bread, of warm summer nights in the fields, of a bed waiting for her to curl up in.

Looking up at him, her breath was stolen. YN swore for a moment she saw a star, a wizard, a sorcerer, an otherworldly being. There, haloed in the light of the afternoon sun, was a man with hair as light as milk-flowers and a nose carved by an artist. His shapely lips pursed in a thoughtful yet neutral pout; his eyes were a dark shade of fresh-soil. And somehow, they twinkled with stars.

Or maybe her eyes were filled with hearts. She blinked. YN had never seen someone so beautiful. The burning spark in her chest faded with awe.

His hand outstretched to her after a moment.

“Are you okay?” he repeated, bleached brow raising faintly.

There was another blink of her pretty eyes before she was shaken from her stupor.

“Oh, yes, yes,” she insisted as she took his hand.

With ease, she was tugged to her feet. “Thank you,” she whispered, pink cheeked.

The figure was tall especially so with his heeled boots. His presence was one she imagined only the Wizard to embody. Peace, stoniness, wisdom. He struck her with wonder. His gaze flickered from her, a faint ghost of a smile on his lips disappearing at the sight of her dresses tumbling away, her books’ pages fluttering in the wind, and, mortifyingly, her panties tumbling from her luggage.

“Um,” he cleared his throat, chin nodding in their direction.

Red cheeked and mortified, she went to grab the frilly underthings before sliding to her knees once more to catch all of her belongings from blowing away. Laughter rang out as students rushed around her things. Someone stepped on her leatherbound book of the History of Shiz.

Her savior, her star, hadn’t bent at the knee to help. He simply watched on, glancing at the student who was cackling at the Munchkinlander’s humiliation.

“Seonghwa!” A cry from the side caught her attention as a red-haired man, shorter than the white-haired star that had helped her, rushed forward. His arm slung over the taller’s shoulders - despite their size differences. Seonghwa bent at the knee for him, letting the red-head adjust him ‘til he was comfortable half leaning on his counterpart.

“Your Highness,” Seonghwa replied.

Highness! Her face only seemed to grow hotter and hotter. She knew Shiz had the rich and royal but she didn’t expect to a royal highness to be watching her gather her intimates and shove them into her luggage today. If her face could burn any hotter, she’d be a furnace.

“Here.” A stray hand held out a blue nightgown her way, and she grabbed it with only the quickest glance.

Sweet Oz, was this entire school flooded with beauty? A strong-shouldered man in decorated regalia was kneeling down to offer more of her items her way. He had collected a handful in his arms - a book, another nightgown, her corset! Grabbing it quick, she thanked him under her breath as she pushed everything into her bag messily.

“Making the ladies swoon and lose their panties already?” the red-haired man teased.

The burn in her chest returned almost as if it could incinerate her away ‘til she was nothing but dust. She wished she could disappear. She didn’t even notice her fingertips fading away, disappearing as she accepted another book from the handsome knight. They sparkled a ghastly transparent shape, almost like she was part ghost. San’s eyes lingered on her hands for a moment, eyes widening. She didn’t even notice that as she shoved a balled-up sweater into the bag.

“She stumbled and fell on her own,” Seonghwa commented. His tone felt cooler than before, almost defensive.

“I was tripped,” she muttered under her breath as she placed the last of her things in her bag.

With the last thing safely tucked away and her bag firmly shut, the broad-shouldered man gave her a soft smile, charmingly so, before he rose and returned to the Star named Seonghwa and his Highness.

“No harm in swooning anyone; stop acting like it’s some scandalacious thing,” the red-head chuckled as he peered down at the Munchkinland woman. His hand rose to tilt his rose-tinted glasses down the fine bridge of his nose.

He winked at her, and her face nearly matched his crimson locks.

“We aren’t here to swoon, Prince Hongjoong. We are here to—”

“Study, yeah, yeah. You okay, miss?” This Prince Hongjoong’s smile, or well, smirk was deadly. Playful, seductive, charming, all wrapped up in one.

“She’s from Munchkinland; I’m sure she’s familiar with being in the dirt,” someone said from the crowd.

Snorts and giggles erupted around. It made her ears burn as she finally stood back on her own two feet, with no help from the strange trio in front of her. The only reassurance was that they didn’t laugh, well, much. Hongjoong giggled out a high-pitched thing as San whispered in his ear. It didn’t feel cruel, more jovial, but still her ego was bruised.

They were laughing at her.

“I’m fine,” she said firmly, trying to cling to her words’ truth as tightly as she clung to her luggage.

Water-chimes rang out; hummingbirds playing them to the tune of the Shiz University alma mater. Everyone’s heads turned; some exclamations of excitement rang out.

“Orientation time,” she heard a girl from behind her say. “We have to get a good seat, c’mon.” A trio of girls pushed past and soon everyone was heading in the direction of the quad.

Orientation… so that’s what those bells were all about. It felt so utterly strange to not know. Everything was so different here, no bell towers here. Everyone seemed to know what things were – even something as simple as orientation’s starting call. But with that, her disturberanceand bullies left in a herd of Ozians scrambling to the main courtyard of Shiz.

She sighed out watching their attentions shift. Like she was nothing but an ant. Momentary entertainment before they casted her aside. She didn’t know it was going to be like this when she left home. Humiliating. Teasing. They weren’t children – why did they act so childish?

After working hard in her classes, after studying day-in-day-out, after facing endless scribing of papers, and even after facing nay-sayers who would taunt her with the words, “are you a good witch or a bad witch?,” she made it here. And she wasn’t going to let some rich-snobs make her feel lesser. So, what she didn’t have money or status? So what she came from Munchkinland? She was going to make it for herself – live an Ozian dream.

Munchkins were simple-folk – small-minded some would say, but not her. No, she believed they were clever. Innovative. They were responsible for feeding Oz; they were the Ozwheat Bread Basket of the lands; their rainbow-tulips techni-colored Oz! That had to stand for something. She was something.

She deserved to be here. She made it. She did it. She was equal.

The burning flame in her chest eased as she reminded herself this, sighing out as color flooded back to her fingertips.

Following after the crowd, she noticed that the trio stayed near her. Hongjoong’s stance was lazy, half leaning on Seonghwa who stood tall as ever, towering over both him and the strong-shouldered man who had helped her.

None were in the standard uniform – did that mean they were freshman like her? The Prince’s attire wasn’t exactly sloppy but mismatched. Dark velveteen pants hugged his legs tight. Laced up black boots with far too many laces climbed up his calves. He wore an ivory-white button up with far too many buttons, far too unbuttoned to be appropriate. A cream suit-jacket-esque sweater rested overtop that. The pattern on it held delicate handstitched purple-flowers… maybe gillyflowers? Was he from Gillikin Country? Regardless, he wore a strand of pearls around his throat, haphazardly. His rose-tinted glasses perched on the tip of his nose and a large oversized blue suede fedora hat hid most of his vermillion hair.

Meanwhile, the two accompanying him wore more uniformed outfits. The broad-shouldered one wore a black-suited ensemble with golden embellishments. A cape draped over his shoulder in deep purple. The one who she thought came from a Star had all white linens on, sharp shouldered and corseted tight around his already lean waist. They looked more royal than the so-called prince.

“You’re staring,” Seonghwa stated, blankly.

His gaze caught hers solidly. His gaze was all-consuming. Like he could see right through her. Read her thoughts. Great Oz… she was both intimidated and intrigued by him. He felt magnetic. Her stomach clenched. He tilted his head.

“Sorry,” she blushed.

“Again.” he added, brow twitching into a sharp raise.

His expression made her feel little, like he was throwing her back to the floor metaphorically. Because, he just had to point out that he noticed her staring earlier. He probably thought she was a creep or some dumb farmgirl like the students cajoled.

“Sorry… again.” she said, finally glancing away from him and walking towards an empty spot on a bench instead. She shifted to hold her suitcase in her arms, hugging it close to her chest. The spark twinkled and she didn’t notice aura she put off. A physical manifestation of her magic. It was a gentle aura; something that was more felt and less seen. It felt like dark clouds were hovering around her. A bubble to keep her safe and hidden, subconsciously.

He didn’t stop looking at her still. She knew because she snuck a quick glance and, when their eyes met in that flash, her cheeks matched the red poppies on her dress. The one with the cape chuckled; his eyes flashing to meet hers once more with a playful gleam. He was laughing at her. Sitting down in an empty spot on a bench, she turned her face away to look down the row of students seated next to her. She offered a soft smile about to introduce herself to the one beside her before one after one they scooted away. Glancing at her like she was the plague. “She’s the Munchkin girl; no, no, she’s not of any royal blood – shes just a charity case – maybe she—” Gossip trickled out as the other students sitting there shifted and moved until she was the only one sitting there. An outcast.

What in Oz was this place?! She knew it was exclusivatory but not like this. So hateful. She wrapped her arms around her suitcase. Her chin rested on top of it as she looked around, making sure not to look at Seonghwa… A third scolding? From him? She’d rather melt into a puddle.

Once everyone had been seated, there was a great hum of a tune – the same alma mater that had twinkled out in chimes to summon them. Some students sang out with pride, knowing every word despite it being their first day. She knew it too; she had read it in her history book. But she refused to embarrass herself anymore today. If she could get through orientation without drawing anymore attention to herself, YN would be content.

Her spark kept a small bubble around her as if telling the world to not disturb her. She heard someone murmur something about, “do you see that odd shimmer around the new girl?”

As if not everyone was new… she pressed her chin into her arms firmer. Orientation and then she can get settled and try to start tomorrow on a better foot.

“Welcome students!” cried out a fancy-looking woman approaching the podium. Her dress was swirling with ancient blue magic; her hat a sharp point upon her head. A sorceress, no, a Witch! YN’s eyes perked up and she gazed up at the Witch in wonder. A real-life witch… a Good Witch of the North! How oztastic.

“Welcome, welcome to Shiz University. I am Madame Ozma, Headmistress here. Whether you are here to study logic, literature, or linguification, I know I speak for my fellow faculty members when I say we have nothing but the highest hopes for… some of you,” it was said in jest and a chuckle waved through the crowd.

“While all subjects are valued here at Shiz, I do want to bring some attention to two very lucky, very talented students that will be joining my sorcery seminar this semester. As you all know – sorcery is the life blood of Oz, and it’s a blessing and duty to cultivate any magic talent that shows itself. As rare as it is. It’s been decades since there have been two students studying sorcery concurrently. Their powers brought into a new age – as we all know.”

There was a murmur of agreement. Everyone knew of the Wicked Witch and Glinda the Good.

“Such a gift should be celebrated.” Ozma exclaimed out. “Uplifted. Guided towards the Light”

There was a scattering of applause. Her cheeks were burning red once more. Her head tilted downwards. The letter hadn’t mentioned this. Good Oz, she wanted to hide.

“Please rise, Miss YN of Munchkinland.”

A silence washed over the crowd in shock. All eyes snapped to her. Hongjoong let out a laugh in the silence, the sound bursting forth from his chest without a care. Blink, blink, blink; she felt like she was an art display of exhibition. Could she just ignore it? What would happen if she didn’t stand? No one really knew if she was YN after all?

“Don’t be shy.” The Headmistress encouraged.

Oh, Great Oz… With poppy-tinted ears, she slowly stood, ruby-cheeked and tight-smiled. That feeling of magic tingled in her chest, fluttering as her anxiety grew. It wanted to burst out – protect her from the murmur that rose through the students. Gossip rolled in wave as they leaned into one another. Whispering what? She didn’t want to know.

“Thank you, dearie. And, rise Sir Seonghwa of Gillikin Country.” She beamed out, encouraging a round of applause once more.

YN’s gaze flashed to where Seonghwa rose as well, waving polite and light. Unlike her, he held such an elegance she didn’t have. Of course, he had magic! Of course, he was a Knight! She was sure he could control it better than she could ever control her wild thing of a magic spark. And now they were going to have private lessons together? After his friends made fun of her? After school-wide ridicule? After he reprimanded her for staring! She wanted to crawl into a corn field and rot.

“Our two sorcerers-in-training,” she declared over polite clapping. “We will be seeing lots and lots of each other.” Madame Ozma promised her and Seonghwa before nodding and allowing them to sit. The Headmistress beamed at the students before shifting her attention to another professor who began to prattle about dormitories, their roommates, and where the halls were located.

Sitting down quick, she wished she could just sink into the ground. How was she going to stand being around him? She blushed if he even so looked at her. How would she focus?

Once orientation ended, it was like a stampede. The students shuffled and hustled around her, rushing towards the many faculty who were handing out keys to their dormitories and pointing on grand scrolls and proclaiming, “Yes, yes, Ms. Gale, you are in the North Dormitory. No, you can’t trade roommates. Yes, its permanent.” Overlapping and overwhelming, the world of Shiz was back in swing – the orientation a flurry of too many moments and moving bodies.

YN stayed on the outskirts of the chaos, peering through a navy sea of uniforms to peer up at the many scrolls, listing out name after name. She’s already embarrassed herself enough for today; she’ll wait ‘til the crowd dispersed she decided.

“There must have been a miscommunication,” she heard Seonghwa’s smooth voice like a siren’s call. She couldn’t help but have her eyes flicker towards him. How could she hear him so well? It was like her body was already in tune with him – he was so far away and yet she could pick him out of a crowd. He was a beautiful flower surrounded by weeds.

Seonghwa’s face was crinkled, divine confusion making his upturned brows

“This isn’t right,” he continued, raising a polite hand towards a faculty member. “The Gillikin Prince requested a private apartment – for himself, Sir Choi San, and myself. But I only see his Highness and San listed.”

“Name?” the bunny-faculty member chirped out.

“Park Seonghwa,” he told him.

There was a shuffling of papers, the rabbit-professor humming and bumbling.

“Ah, yes, yes,” the rabbit nodded, his mouth chittering a bit as he chewed on the edge of his pen. “I see – no, no mix up, Sir Seonghwa. Thank you.”

“Where is my dormitory then?” Seonghwa snapped, his tone sharp and authoritarian before he swallowed and followed it up with a soft ‘please’.

“With Miss YN, of course,” It wasn’t the rabbit-professor who spoke but the nearby Headmistress. She walked forward; the rabbit-professor bowed in her direction and Seonghwa followed suit, bowing his head politely.

“YN, dear,” Madame Ozma called, “Join us.”

Seonghwa’s gaze turned and met hers – because, of course, like two magnets their eyes found one another immediately. It felt like she was caught staring for the third time. Bumbling, YN nodded and stood with her suitcase, walking forward.

“Yes, Madame,” she called, curtsying and bowing and rushing forward to the Headmistress. “Honor to meet you.”

“What do you mean I am rooming with Miss YN?” Seonghwa redirected.

Nearby, she heard Hongjoong giggled out manically. “This is perfect,” the red-head commented.

“Hush, your Highness,” Seonghwa scolded over his shoulder with ease, not even glancing at the Prince. Too natural, too routine, like he knew where the Prince was at all times without even looking his way. The Prince still giggled, and surprisingly San joined him in his mischievousness.

“Yes, Seonghwa, you will be sharing an apartment with YN,” the Headmistress confirmed, her head nodding towards the Munchkinlander. “I thought that was made clear to you through our letters?”

Seonghwa’s head turned, almost like an owl, to stare down the chortling Royal and the smirking San.

“I must’ve missed that letter,” he replied slowly.

“As did I,” YN piped up. “I never received anything besides – well, besides entry into the school and your approval of joining the seminar.”

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry,” the Madame apologized, squeezing the arm of YN. “I will inquire my office about correspondence throughout Oz and where there were any mishaps.”

She nodded lightly before glancing towards Seonghwa who seemed so indifferent to her as he turned back to face the Headmistress. Like a statue, his facial features had settled into a calm, neutral glaze.

“However, I must apologize; there are not two room available for you both. There is only one apartment closest to my offices – I want to have myself available to you both as often as possible. Magical growth doesn’t happen overnight nor does it follow any class schedule,” she chuckled lightly. “The apartment is up to standards, one of the best if I do say so myself.”

The two sorcerers-in-training spoke over one another next.

“I don’t doubt that,” YN replied.

“It’s not about that!” Seonghwa exclaimed.

They locked gazes once more. The man swallowed, his Adam's apple jittering, before looking away forcibly.

Her face fell visibly. Was he so… disgustified by her that he couldn't even share a space with her? She was an adult. She wouldn’t be dirty or disrespectful as a roommate. She'd leave him be but with how he was acting - it was as if she was some lowly creature. He didnt even care if the apartment was the nicest ones on campus! She could only imagine its history and beauty and yet... he was acting so adamant.

“I am here as protection for his Highness,” Seonghwa stated whole-heartedly. “First-and-foremost.”

“I understand,” the Headmistress asserted. “His Highness, Prince Kim Hongjoong has written me most ardently over the summer requesting for his apartment to be furnished only for two – him and Sir Choi. He expressed his full support to your studies.”

At the new information, there was a flicker of dust whirling off of the sorcerer's bare skin; his honey skin glimmering as magic oozed from him. He rolled his tongue over his teeth before Seonghwa finally let out a huff of frustration. His perfect mask fell as he gritted his teeth.

“And I do,” Hongjoong drawled from behind them. He took a step forward, red glasses pushed into his hair as he looked at his friend earnestly. “Hwa, you’ve protected me your entire life – its time for your talent to grow.” It was said genuinely but Seonghwa’s anger, no matter how small buzzed and bubbled in the air. She could see his hair rise with static electricity just faintly. His magic was so reactive… just like hers.

She had never met another wizard or witch; only read about them. And to see his magic surging in a near invisible dust-like ember around him, the little tells of its reactions on his body, it felt like for once she had someone who would understand her.

If only he didn't despise her.

“There are no curfews,” the Headmistress reminded. “If you wish to stay at his Highness’ suite, no one will stop you. But I’m sorry; there are no other official accommodations I can provide.”

Seonghwa took in a deep breath through his nose before offering a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s alright, Headmistress. Thank you for the clarification. I’m sure me and YN will – we'll be fine. We will find a solution.” He stumbled over the right word.

She felt like he was already planning to sneak out of their dorm or distance himself from her as soon as the Headmistress floated away. He hadnt looked at her since she joined them.

“Very good. That's what I like to hear - my two sorcerers working together” The Headmistress beamed. Her magic blared out in a whirl of golden light with her happiness, looking like a living candle for a moment. “I do look forward to our lessons, but for now… welcome to Shiz.”

Yeah, what a welcome.

#park seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x reader #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez fic #atz x reader #seonghwa scenarios #seonghwa fluff #seonghwa angst #ateez fantasy au #ateez witch au #hongjoong x reader #san x reader #written by haley

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giurochedadomani · 1 day ago

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What if felicia died protecting silco? I mean, there's a whole bunch of different possible timelines, I'm just offering my two cents up for the discussion.

It's just that his fight with vander could easily be one of a 'why didn't you protect her?' bitter kind.

Lemme explain it.

Let's say that the trio actually organice the riot and decide that today's the day to storm the bridge. Obviously vander will be in the vanguard bc we can guess that he's the best or one of the best fighters that the undercity has.

Silco, on the other hand, is very much not. Like. I can picture him fighting more like jinx and I firmly believe that jinx is a waaaay better fighter than he ever was (bc she must have learnt some tricks from sevika).

But I can imagine him throwing molotov cocktails or planting explosives.

At first, the trio would have decided that felicia would stay behind with the kids, but let's face it, felicia gives off strong badass vibes. Maybe she senses that something's not right in their plan. Perhaps she just decides that she has to be there.

So she leaves the girls with her husband. Without predicting how big the fight is actually going to become or that perhaps the enforcers are going to take retaliatiory action against the city after the fight.

So she dies. And her husband dies. And vi takes powder to the bridge in a last resort attempt to find their mother.

Idek, idek, I just feel like vander getting mad at silco bc of felicia's death bc silco threw the first granade or whatever is way too vague?? Like no. Have felicia dying bc it's either her dying or silco not being able to blow up his explosives, or some grand conflict like that.

Like. Give me something vander could hate silco in special for. Vander needs a reason to turn against his closest friend / lover for the death of their other closest friends. It needs to be a very powerful reason that makes him be angry at silco in special and not at the enforcers, piltover, etc.

#Zaundads #arcane silco #vander arcane

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deergravity · 1 day ago

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Seeing as my internal rewards system has moved on to 'trans fiction' from 'queer horror audio drama podcast' I thought I should do a little roundup of everything I listened to the past few months.

A rough ranking:

Malevolent. Just squeaking into the top spot here based on 1) technical prowess (iykyk) 2) compelling characters and story and 3) they are my blorbos your honor!!! Mind boggling that Harlan Guthrie has so much chemistry with himself.

The Silt Verses. Only topped by Malevolent bc season 1 is not as polished, but it really doesn't matter. Top tier characters, amazing worldbuilding, intricate plotting and it had something to SAY about the casual violence of systems, the nature of hope, the complexity of being human in a world that tries to make us inhuman. Also, it doesn't rely on some thin recording contrivance (a framing device that has its place) and instead truly takes the mantle of audio drama without apology.

The White Vault. On the topic of framing devices, TWV has a very cool take on found footage recordings. A group of [researchers/archeologists] are sent to investigate a remote site in [Svalbard/Patagonia] and the podcast is structured as a documentarian presenting the notes, recordings and diary entries in a reconstructed timeline. My favorite element is that many of the characters don't make their notes in English, so the segments will often open with the VA speaking German, Spanish, Mandarin, Icelandic, Russian, etc etc before fading into the translation. There are miniseries between the seasons available on their patreon and they were so worth the $10 I paid to access them for a month. Reveals are slow, but worthwhile, and the mythology built for the show is highly original and intriguing.

Deviser. A one season contained story from Harlan Guthrie of Malevolent. Scifi, psychological, lots of wet awful body horror. If you're a fan of Harlan wimpering into a mic, you'll love this one.

WOE.BEGONE. Long, ongoing, and so so so far from the original premise it's hilarious, I'm ranking this higher than it maybe deserves for two factors 1) the creator and the VAs are clearly having a blast and 2) it's riding the line of taking itself serious despite a premise that invites irony poisoning without becoming too wrapped up in itself. It's fun, I think, that keeps w.bg strong.

The Magnus Archives. Should this be one up? Probably. But everyone bloody well knows tma by this point, it's good, great even! Beyoncé of horror podcasts.

I Am In Eskew. Only knocked down due to the actually godawful sound quality. Truly unsettling stories though (the one with the building architect haunts me) and a surprisingly realistic conclusion. You can see the bones of The Silt Verses here, from the same creative team.

The Magnus Protocol. Everything above this is there due to originality. As a sequel series, TMAGP will always suffer in that measure. However, I like our new cast and I do love an alternate reality. Curious to see where season 2 takes us. I'd like to kill Mr Bonzo in a fire.

The Inexplicables. Another one season story, this time from Rusty Quill, with really fun, flawed characters and no recording framing device!

Wolf 359. Storywise, great! Characters, excellent! Kicking it way to the bottom bc they just would NOT STOP referencing H***y P****r. Yes, Doug's characterization hangs on excessive reference humor, but that was one well I wish they'd left alone.

Red Valley. Knocked for HP references too (come ON british podcasters, do better) but more importantly for veering WAY WAY WAY WAY WAY too close to real life in season 3 onward. I was here for a horror sci fi story about cryogenics, not to listen to my worst climate disaster fears brought to life via hearing rich old sods try to buy their way out of consequences while the world burns and eco terrorism escalates. Too real. Not bad storytelling, just very much not fulfilling my escapism needs.

It's kinda crazy to me that anytime I mention this genre to normies in my life they say, "oh, like true crime podcasts?" And then I die inside. No dude, like radio drama. Like War of the Worlds.

Anyway, I'm off to get even less relatable by reading a zillion niche trans novels (hello Welcome to Dorley Hall, aka, what if there really was a 'trans cult' force femming dudes to undermine their masculinity? It's amazing how much yarn we can make by subverting the cis gaze.)

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just-another-fan-01 · 3 days ago

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Fanfic Recommendations Needed ASAP!!!

I don't think some of you understand...

I just NEED some fanfics where these two are married. I mean come on!! I don't care if it's from season one..

Or post-finale where these two are just floating around together and decide, "What the heck, we already decided to be partners in every timeline, let's make it official and be husbands in this one."

To be completely honest, they don't have enough out there with bearded Jayce either. Like this man...

I have no doubts Viktor would have definitely swooned for. Especially season 1 Viktor?? Like this sweet flirtatious bean!?

Meeting this Jayce?!

Ya know he definitely would cave for the beard. Or maybe that's just a biased opinion, but man... He did get way more attractive after growing his hair and getting a beard.

I could go on and on with my rant, but I'll just end it here. But please, if anyone has read fanfics like this, please recommend them! I've been searching and I can't find them anywhere. 😭😭😭

#jayvik #jayce talis #viktor arcane #jayce x viktor #arcane #they're so cute #so much love for these two #jayvik husbands

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lovefrombegonia · 20 hours ago

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I think the reason jayvik is hitting me so hard coz I didn't EXPECT jayvik to hit so hard in season 2. These two characters are affecting more than what I thought others would. It's kind of the same with how I reacted to qijiu and beefleaf. I cannot express in words what kind of visceral reaction my brain had when I read their stories y'all. I was exhausted and numb but I wanted to scream into the void at the same time. I was affected for weeks and months. I slowed down working because I couldn't escape them. I was mourning for bonds that were never mine. I was like...yeah these characters are fine on their own but I don't see that much of---HOLY MOTHER OF MADHURI THEY HIT ME WITH THE SLEDGEHAMMER OF "DOOMED BY THE NARRATIVE BUT IF NOT YOU THEN NO ONE ELSE WILL DO" 💔

Yeah...ok. I am supposed to just move on now?? I CAN'T.

I'm supposed to move from the yue qi and shen jiu extras after them showing how much these two meant to each other, how much they defined each other, and them delivering the line of how two trails of blood lines travelled towards each other but never met?

I'm supposed to move on after the betrayal that black water arc where he xuan is basically destroying shi qingxuan but at the same time, doing shit that seems like he also doesn't want to hurt--and then leaving him alive--and then keeping the wind master fan--and then I should just not dwell on their situationship forever? No. I can't move on.

I can't move on from the fact that in all timelines, in all possibilities, only Jayce could make Viktor realise his mistakes and his humanity. That Jayce always saw beauty in Viktor. That Jayce chose to die with Viktor, holding him one last time.

These couples stayed static after the end of their stories in the letters and drawings of their creators. But their "what are we..." keeps ringing in my mind, whenever I think about them. They are alive in my brain, trying to desperately reach out to each other, fighting, clawing, bleeding for each other, to touch each other, and attain the happy endings they will never get. And I witness their despair and fight to reach that non-existent happily ever after in the back of my eyes, every time I think about them.

#jayvik #qijiu #beefleaf #arcane #tgcf #svsss #saya rambles.#spoilers

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jungmeowz · 1 day ago

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-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈ secret letters to you - OT7

Prologue; the seven letters + one

synops: seven boys who have all had a crush on you, and mayhaps one or two of them are still in love with you, and who knows? But at one point all of them liked you, just in different timelines. sum: seven anonymous letters arrived at your mailbox with seven different boys names, but there's ONE secret confession letter that's fresh and newly written. Who wrote the letter?

genre: fluff, angst(?)

pairing: ot7 x reader

inspo: lowkey based on en-drama and to all the boys i've loved before

word count: 1.7k+

Like any other typical day of school, I had arrived home exhausted. Classes were kicking my butt and being surrounded by professors who didn’t care about anything but themselves was the pure motivation of why should I bother to try in school… but then again I knew better to have this attitude. After a rough day of school Aerai and I decided to go home together and chill at my place. We plopped down on the couch letting our bodies soak into the cushion and engulf us as we were both burnt out from school.

“I’m home,” I greeted. “I'm here too!” Aerai responded. “Hey, welcome home squirt,” my brother greeted. I immediately sat up and turned around and gave him a weird look. It was always rare to see my brother come home, just because he had his own place. “You’re home? Why are you here?” I joked. “Can’t your brother come home and see his little sister?” he joked. “I just wanted to come and visit. By the way there’s mail for you, I didn’t realize you were popular at school” he smirked. I gave him a weird look and questioned what he was talking about because I knew I usually never get mail, and if it was for me, it was typically just advertisements for something. “What are you talking about, I’m like the definition of anti-social,” I responded. “Yeah? Well you got 8 letters from the mail, and they don’t look like advertisements,” he shrugged.

Aerai got up from the couch and turned around as well and greeted my brother and then looked at me and grinned. “Damn, I didn’t realize you were popular like that. How was I unaware? I’m like your best friend,” Aerai joked. I rolled my eyes and slightly pushed her jokingly, “Real funny Aerai. We all know I’m not a social butterfly aside from talking to you, and the seven other boys and two of them don’t even attend our school,” I rolled my eyes. “Well, I think you should open these letters because I’m not going to lie, I kinda opened them and they look like confession letters,” your brother said. “Hey! Talk about invasion of privacy!” I exclaimed and darted my eyes at my brother, he chuckled and put his hands up for surrender and shrugged. “Can’t help it, I was curious,” he defended..

My best friend nudged me and smirked when my brother mentioned the confession letter. I looked at her and could tell she was ready to clown me for this one. “You’re telling me my best friend got 8 confession letters?” Aerai laughed. “You’re joking right. Who on earth would like me?” I answered. “I don’t know? You tell me. I moved out, so how would I know,” My brother replied as he walked over and handed me the letters.

I looked at them with a blank face, and there were many questions swarming in my head. Who could possibly like me? Why would they like me? What is there to like about me? I sat there staring at the letters as I felt two of the people stare at me waiting for the anticipation. Aerai, who was impatient, nudged me, “Well open them!” she said. “What if this is just a prank and someone's just fucking with me?” I said nervously. “Hey come on, have some confidence in yourself, if I was a dude I would like you,” Aerai winked.

“You’re my best friend that doesn’t count, and that doesn’t help either, but that was sweet of you to say. I would like you too,” I laughed. “Well open them,” my brother said impatiently. “Hey! You already read it! Don’t rush me… besides what did it say? Did they leave their names in the letter?” I questioned. “Well… actually It’s typed, and completely anonymous. I actually don’t know, but you should read them,” he said.

I looked at him confusingly and frowned as that information didn’t help but left me confused. I tried to brush off the feeling and proceeded to open the letters one by one reading them.

October 13th 2020

Dear (y/n), At one point I’ve liked you for a while, you were always there for me, and was always cheering me on by the sidelines or anything really. I mean who wouldn’t like you? You’ve always given all your efforts and that’s what I love about you, but as time passed I gave up because I would rather keep this friendship than ruin it, but it's okay because you’ll always hold a special place in my heart.

May 23rd 2021

Dear (y/n), I mean ever since we were kids I’ve always liked you, I mean you spoke with confidence and always stood up to anyone which I really admired. You are someone I cherish very much. Your goofy smiles, and your awkward greetings, everything about you was perfect to me. I wish you could understand how much I like you because it’s a really intense feeling, and maybe one day I would hope you could return the same feelings or potentially feel the same way about how I feel about you?

June 7th 2022

Dear (y/n), I’ve seen you around before and there’s no doubt you’ve caught my attention, and I wanted to get to know you better and I did! And it’s no surprise but I ended up falling in love with you, but I will say I’m not the only one. You caught my heart which I don’t mind, but someone else deserves you more than I do.

February 7th 2023

Dear (y/n), When I first saw you in class, I thought you were cute, and then when you became a stuttering mess, I thought it was adorable, but when I got to know you more? I learned that there’s more to you than this shy awkward girl. I learned that you’re so caring and sweet, and with that I couldn’t help but like you as I got to be around you more and more, but at last I knew you would never like me, but it’s okay. I like what we have now, and it’s better this way anyways.

April 19th 2023

Dear (y/n), It’s no surprise that I fell for you, I mean you were always around me and the boys. I didn’t mind if you liked me or not, I didn’t think we would end up dating anyways. It would also kinda be a sin if we dated. But even then I couldn’t help but like you, but as time passed and all the pro’s and con’s appeared. I knew it would never work out for us, and trust me, it’s not you, I’m just being realistic, besides there’s someone else out there who is majorly in love with you more than I am.

September 18th 2023

Dear (y/n), You know you’re more deceiving than you look, if I’m being honest you’re like the first person that I’ve fallen for, because honestly girls don’t really catch my attention, unlike you… you’ve caught my attention and maybe it’s the way you talk? Or maybe it’s because we spend a lot of time together. I’m not sure. You’ve always expressed your feelings and problems to me, and to be honest… I think you’re so brave and strong, and because of that I just wanted you to feel loved, but I realized as time passed maybe the way I look at you should stay as a friendship instead of a relationship, because I’m too scared to lose you, so for now I’ll say I like you, and hopefully later I can say you were just my first love.

July 19th 2024

Dear (y/n), I guess you could say like any other guy in these sappy letters it’s to confess that I’ve liked you, but that doesn’t change our friendship now. I care about having you in my life more than ruining it because of these feelings I hold for you. I think when time passes I’ll be over you, but for now I’ll enjoy adoring your cute smile and laughs, because when you’re happy, it makes me happy and that’s all I could ever ask for.

November 16th 2024

From kids to now… I’ve liked you for many years and still now… I hope that’s not weird? I just really wished you knew how much you mean to me. We’ve known each other for a long time and so.. I hope you would get my hints, but then again you’re kinda dense… But I still hope I'm not the only one who feels this way. I like you and I hope one day you feel the same way and maybe be mine?

After finishing reading the letters one by one, I couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed. My jaw dropped and I could feel Aerai’s aura next to me as she was also panicking and freaking out about the letters as well. “Wait, all of these letters are dated differently,” Aerai mentioned. “Yeah, but at least the letters are organized by date and year, but it really doesn't help that there’s no NAME TO ANY OF THEM! There’s 8 total but I only talk to like seven boys, which means all of the boys liked me at some point...” I trailed off. “Wait, what if they’re from the same person?” Aerai asked. “I don’t think so, each letter is different,” I answered. “Then I think at least two of them are from the same person. Read the newest letter, the November 16th 2024 one. It seems like one of them still likes you, and I think that’s a legit confession letter” Aerai said. “Well, it really could be anyone, how am I going to solve this? There are eight letters and seven boys and two letters are from the same person,” I complained. “Well at least we know that all the boys liked you, we just have to do a process of elimination by analyzing the letter,” Aerai said. “That’s doing the most, but I don’t see any other way to solve this,” I frowned.

As Aera and I were bickering back and forth about how to go about this situation, I had totally forgot my brother was still in the room watching us, he then laughed at us and tried to make a joke about the situation. I looked at him and rolled my eyes and threw a couch pillow at him. “I mean you could straight up gather all of them together and shove the letters in their face and ask them who wrote what,” he joked. “Very funny,” I rolled my eyes. Aerai snickered and covered her mouth and I looked at her and she looked away and put her head down trying to avoid eye contact, “I mean, he’s not wrong,” Aerai said under her breath.

I scoffed and looked at the two of them in disbelief, “Yeah, you really think if I just shove the letter in their faces, they’re going to admit they wrote these letters? Like hell they would!” I exclaimed. “Yeah, I wouldn’t admit anything,” my brother said. “My point being said, so now what,” I crossed my hands and pouted. “Well then let’s start your oldest friendship from the guys you’ve been friends with,” Aerai suggested. “So Kim Sunoo, the childhood best friend,”

001; Kim Sunoo - The childhood best friend

from me to you; secret letters to you - masterlist

° ᡣ𐭩 . ° ᴇɴʜʏᴘᴇɴ ᴍᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ ° ᡣ𐭩 . °

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