#long post tw sort of

[trentcrimminallybeautiful]

TRENT CRIMM'S HAIR in SEASONS ONE & TWO [s3]

[sophiethewitch1]

Hey! I just wanted to say that I love the WWW series so much that I've literally read it like 4 times over. SO! I have several questions + observations about it that have been bugging me a little, if you don’t mind answering + talking about them.

Everyone’s ages are something that I've been curious about. I know that it’s stated that Damian and the Reader-insert are 3 years apart in age, 19 and 21 respectively. I’m assuming that they’re more like 2 1/2 years apart based on the ages we’ve been given.

Do they follow canon ages? For example, is Tim still around 7 years older than Damian???

Because i’m picturing the lineup looking something like this:

Bruce: 47

Dick: 33

Jason: 28

Tim: 26

Reader-insert: 21

Damian: 19

I was just curious because picturing everyone’s relative age is something that is really important to me when regarding the dynamics between characters.

Another thing that I noticed was how in the Reader-insert’s  original reality/world, her entire family died on the same day that Jason did. (“Your lives had both technically ended the same day, in the same grand calamity.”). Does that remain the same in this new world?

Because that would mean that the Reader-insert’s  counterpart would have known Jason at some point, which I think is SUPER interesting. Lots of implications.

That’s supported by something that Tim says in his 1st pov: “Your family had died, Bruce’s new wife had died, and all the siblings he never really got the opportunity to meet, gone in a brilliant flash.”

THAT has a few implications that I think are really interesting. It supports the idea that her family did die on the same day in this reality, and that she would have known and been living with Jason at the time (Well, before his death.)

Tim would have most likely only seen them at galas or something similar by that time…leading to his statement about how he “never really got the opportunity to meet” them.

This would mean that Jason knew her counterpart when the Reader-insert met him for the first time. 

Now, going off of all of those assumptions, I can only begin to guess what her and Dicks relationship was like before her family's death. I picture it like this:

Dick had only left the manor around 3 years TOPS before Bruce had remarried, bringing a whole nother family into the fold. Now, we don’t know too much about Dick in this story yet, (I'm SO excited to see more of him in the next chapter BTW) but I can assume that this would feel pretty upsetting. Leaving your home, and your adoptive? father only for him to marry into a whole new family not long after?

I’d be pretty bitter if it was me in his situation. I wouldn’t really want to have any kind of relationship with the new children he had taken in. MEANING that Dick and the counterpart didn’t have too much of a relationship before her family's death.

And between their death and Jason’s, Dick would probably consider the counterpart as some kind of chance to actually build a relationship with his siblings in the light of what he lost. Obviously, the counterpart didn’t appreciate the attempt.

Uhhh there’s probably a lot more that I'm forgetting to mention, but I think the way you write is super compelling, and the Reader-Insert has been the only one that I’ve ever read that I can relate to so well!

So TYSM for writing, it literally makes my day!! 🩷🩷🩷🫂🫂🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

(And I’m really bad at conveying my tone in text, so if I seem overly critical or anything then I’m really sorry!!! I don’t mean it like that!!!)

Sorry this took so long to answer I have been in sickly victorian woman mode. I'll answer these questions to the best that I can, but also I don't have everything planned and even if I did I regularly forget shit if I don't write it down <3 <3

First of all the ages- I aged both the younger Waynes up and the older ones down a bit, because I'm personally not into the super huge age gaps but also. Imagine them however you want, even if they come up later in continuity still just insert your personal preferences if you want. Like it really doesn't matter lmao they're relationship has bigger issues than the age gaps. Anyway here are how I had them written down but I might change my mind I am a fluid being

Reader: 21, Damian: 19, Tim: 22, Jason: 25, Dick: 29, Bruce: 45, Alfred: 67, Molly: Also 21, Cass: 25, Stephanie: 23, Barbara: 30, Duke: 20

Also yes, reader's family died the exact same day in both universes, and first world reader like... knew about the waynes but wasn't particularly interested in them till their own family was ripped away, then she started obsessing. in second world, reader and the batfam were like... sort of involved? she lived with them, and she was getting to know them, but wouldn't you be kind of weirded out if your mum married like. jeff bezos or something. and reader is sort of introvert coded, even if they don't read that way. it's just because she's trying so hard not to be, because she's so starved for attention. other world reader like,,, didn't seem to react the same way to what happened to her. but she might've, in the newest chapter it seems like she was talking to bruce after the disaster, and then stopped. But yeah you're right they never knew each other because not much effort was made to do so, and the Waynes are always SUPER busy.

Also about the Dick thing, he was actually pretty happy about the new family! But like you said he still didn't know other reader till the disaster. He just didn't have time to get to know her. He was obviously very upset with Bruce because he left to fuck off to Bludhaven for a while, but he's always loved how the Wayne family kept growing. Even when it was just him Jason, Babs and the weird kid who followed them around with a camera. Then he like decided he was going to treat her like a project because he has a savior complex that comes out especially so when he's having a hard time (oh damn my brothers dead). Not your best moment Dickie. I mean other reader definitely did need help but... as if she'd accept it from a guy like Dick. Imagine your entire family dies and you have to deal with the most beautiful guy on earth trying to comfort you while you look like a creature that crawled out of the sewers. And he tries to make you go outside because you're genuinely very mentally sick. I'd kill him tbh. Anyway this is all still technically up in the air and I might go back and edit the fic later because I'm like... very bad at timelines I just can never remember them properly which creates a lot of issues and inconsistencies.

Anyways thank you for sending in your questions/theories and enjoying my work so much! I'm glad you can relate to reader so well, she's like, one of the strangest characters I've ever written who refuses to behave in any concrete mannerisms because she's stubborn and has intimacy issues. But I think we're all a little bit like that lmao. And thank YOU for reading my stuff, I wouldn't still be doing it if it weren't for folks like you :P (also also you didn't come across as critical at all, you were very polite!!!)

[cursed-rat-of-homosexuality]

how we feelin

(gif by @usermeggy)

pain. I feel pain

[mvsicinthedvrk]

"Right, you could have... but then I just would've said you were making it all up," Martin informs him helpfully. So he doesn't think he'd really been in danger of being locked away; besides, if it really came down to it, he could call Sasha in as character witness, or an evidence witness, or whatever you'd call someone to come prove your sanity. But lying and saying Jon was the one making up stories would have been the far easier way to handle that hypothetical situation. He doesn't think Jon would jump straight to calling the authorities on him, though, no matter how strange Martin's retelling of their job history might be, so he'd felt safe enough.

It's been so long since Jon started using the tape recorder to record the statements that Martin has to wrack his brain to remember why that'd even begun in the first place. "There was something weird about-- or, it was something glitchy every time you tried to use more modern technology, I think. Anyway, you've been doing it forever, yeah. Pretty much every day." It doesn't take long for him to show Jon to their old desk, which has been left fairly untouched. He immediately spots a tape recorder-- "Oh, look, there's one--" and goes to fiddle with the buttons, adding, "Yeah, obviously it's alright for you to come again, we'll find your old key and make sure you can get in when you want. I mean, you've got a right to poke around whenever you like as much as anyone who actually works here now, though I wouldn't recommend going down to the basement without, errr, supervision." The tape recorder squawks in protest when he presses a button that clearly isn't the right one, and he hands it off as quickly as possible to Jon instead. "I'll just... let you do that, then."

"But you decided to take that risk anyway. I could have attempted to take you to a psych ward for this." Jon said, not really as a question, merely an observation. He was trying to rapidly figure out everyone's character. It was difficult, having so many people who seemed to know them with no idea what to expect from everyone's personalities. He had to play catch up and get core character traits down so he didn't feel like they were desperately fighting to know everyone in a way that they might have known him. "I don't typically jump to trusting cops." Jon reassured, though he would take another perspective if offered. "Though I will probably hear her out if I do see her. Perhaps your stories will line up."

"So I'm regularly making tape recordings then?" Jon asked, confused by the idea that there might just be a pile of the things lying around with their voice on them. "I know people assume I'm old fashioned but I do know how to use a laptop." Jon walked in taking a glance around the place. It didn't look like any less of a mess than the last time he'd been there, despite Martin claiming there was improvement. "Right...well as long as it's not damaging any of the documents I suppose it's not the end of the world." He had never looked around the place seriously before now, only coming to get a few requested documents and leave. Now with some knowledge it did look awkwardly sparse and unclean. It didn't help how Jon felt about the place. "Let me just see my desk if you can. I don't know how much time I have this afternoon so we shouldn't do a full tour. I will be able to come back though, assuming that's alright." Despite his desire to write the whole thing off and never look back there was something about the Magnus Archives that made it difficult for them to simply up and leave, as much as that would be the reasonable thing to do.

[books-are-my-life-stuff]

Finished series, Fall 2023: Akuma-kun (2023)

"What is happiness to all humans? Are they happy if there's ample food, clothing, and shelter? Do they want self-fulfillment? Recognition from others? The psychologist Maslow said--" "Hold on. Hey, Ichiro. What is happiness to you?" "To me?"

[dumb-butt-with-a-sword]

Bill: Go away.

Bill: oh no oh no oh no oh no oh no-

????: You okay?!

Bill: I'm fine!

Bill: I'm getting goo all over your ugly ass rug!

(Poorly drawn cus I got lazy) Stan: You're cleaning that up!

????: Does it hurt?

Bill: No...

(It does)

????: What happens if you melt all the way?

Bill: Let's find out.

Soup boy. Goo man. Melty guy.

[sukibenders]

Lottie Matthews: *a teenage girl stuck in the middle of the wilderness, stranded with other teenage girls and two boys and a coach, all traumatized and simply wanting to go home, starving, struggling with guilt and her own mind, trying to find comfort in whatever she can---which ends up being a supernatural force, some of the girl's cling to it, because it's provides comfort, while others turn against her because it's too far out of the realm of belief even though she stabbed a bear through the skull and fed them from it, but in the end she's just a teenage girl placed on a pedestal that she didn't ask for but took it because it would help her friends, only for years later said pedestal she didn't ask for causes her to be seen as a pariah amongst the same girls that she survived the wilderness with.*

Some people: Lottie is most definitely the villain of the series! Look how she's tearing the girls apart and making them the worst versions of themselves! She's just crazy, and none of this is even real. I'm glad Shauna--

[mvsicinthedvrk]

"I think-- people would be able to rely on you," Martin argues, in defense of the other despite the fact that it's the other who's seemingly against himself. "You seem like the sort who'd do your best, and really, that's all anyone can ask for..." Though he does know firsthand that 'doing one's best' isn't always as readily appreciated by others as Martin would hope. He does remember some very specific unkind words about some of his attempts to work cases which were less than smooth sailing. Overall, he's learned to take any particularly needling criticism of his work and package it away until it's easier to deal with at a distance. Even so, that still doesn't necessarily mean that being treated that way is always inevitable. "When you put it that way-- family-run-businesses-- it sounds a little like a mafia," he admits the first thing that comes to mind, "and that'd be way further down on my list of places I'd like to be employed. Though, I guess, there's pros and cons to everything..."

"I periodically mull over the idea of integrating myself into the labor force proper, you know, for that specific reason of knowing that at least then I'd only be one piece of the puzzle and could maybe reach out to others for back up." RJ let out a small sigh, before continuing on with, "But, then I remember that, in turn, that would mean other people are relying on me for the same, and suddenly the appeal is gone." It wasn't that he wouldn't want to be relied upon, so much as him being self-aware enough to know that he wasn't the most dependable. Best if he was the only person he had to let down.

Martin's remark on the quarterly goal pulled him back out of his own head as he snorted in response. "I don't think there's any other place whose archiving department has to even consider potential trauma-bonding, let alone set a lower bar for their next quarter. Then again, I don't think there's another place that has to archive the stuff that you guys do so..." He shrugged a bit and said, "I mean, there are family-run businesses, but the bosses in those usually tend to go the route of ignoring the fact the employees are family, and very much don't really care if they get along as long as they can get the job done. Though I can definitely see how getting along -or at a bare minimum being professional- can make working together far easier."

[bicolor-art]

little day in the life comic w Skrilliant (it/its). dunno why i chose skrilliant considering it has no set daily routine but whatever LOL

[orangechickenpillow]

I think regardless of whether or not this is a bad idea, or the fact that watcher needs funds to create these shows (which is real and valid), whether this works out for them or not, ultimately, this change is going to result in the loss of community.

Let's be so real: people are going to record their new stuff and post it on youtube, or other piracy sites. That's just a fact. People do it with netflix, they do it with hulu and apple tv and movies, etc. etc. People are going to find ways to watch watcher's shows without paying for them. But, if I were to go and watch the next season of ghost files on a piracy site (cannot believe I just made that sentence, btw), the thing is, I'm not going to come and post about it here on tumblr. When the previous seasons dropped, I was making posts while I was watching, just of my thoughts and stuff -- and I was liking other people's posts they were making while they were watching. And it was a great time of us all reacting to the episode. But now, if people are able to find the content for free, there's not going to be any of that. We'll watch it, and maybe we'll be able to enjoy it despite all of this, but even if we post about it, it's not going to feel like a community anymore because so many people will be out of the loop. So many people won't know what's going on, or what we're talking about, because they weren't able to watch it. Even if you take out the piracy aspect, that's what you're going to have. The fandom (or, unfortunately, what's left of it, if we're being real) will turn into People Who Have The Subscription and People Who Don't.

This is so long and dramatic, and I've got things to do today that don't revolve around internet shows, but even so: I feel like we have the right to vent our feelings and then move on however we see fit, so that's what I'm gonna do. Last thing I'll say (for now at least lol) is that I understand why watcher is doing this, I understand that raising enough funds to do what you want is hard, I understand that above all they are a company that wants to do ambitious things and will need the money to do so. That being said, this has created a shitty situation for a lot of people who have been watching their content for 9 plus years (because really, the watcher shows were an extension of their buzzfeed shows) for free and are now being faced with a "pay or don't watch at all" ultimatum. So, I get why they did it, and I get why people are upset.

[mvsicinthedvrk]

He understands what the other's saying, that they can't keep going around and around about what was real and what had been a lie; what Gu Mang had thought and done, compared with what Mo Xi had believed. He had lacked key information, is the long and short of it, and had misunderstood under no fault of his own-- if the other's telling the truth, which again, can't be proven for sure. He feels the twinge of a headache beginning in the back of his skull as he tries to work it out in a way that's digestible, but nothing about their situation is easy to fathom. "You should," he says thickly, in response to the other's attempt at a joke. "You should turn to me." That's all he wanted years ago, to be able to help Gu Mang. To rightfully earn his attention, and keep his trust safe, keep him safe. Yet nothing had turned out the way it should have. Mo Xi's chest, his throat, his eyes grow hot, overwhelmed with emotion but with nowhere to pour it all. His heart has belonged to the older man for so long that no matter how hardened it may have become at Gu Mang's previous betrayal, at his words now, it automatically cracks open just a little further. He swallows before saying, with some difficulty, "...I am. Willing." Even if there's a chance that he'll end up getting hurt again, the opportunity to repair something between them is too valuable to be able to carelessly pass over.

"i know that. i know it wasn't for me, but for them." gu mang whispered, though he'd be lying if he said that he didn't hope that a small part of the other had done it for him. "it was the right thing to do, but it was also something that you shouldn't have had to do. he was supposed to take care of them. he promised to and he was ready to go back on that promise. then he used that to make sure that you were loyal and that you would never betray him." he shook his head, still unable to believe everything that they'd had to go through. there were so many what if's that went through his head constantly because he just couldn't stop himself from wondering what would've happened if he'd been honest with mo xi from the beginning, if he hadn't hid his real feelings or if he'd gone to him when the emperor had first spoken to him about being a spy. he was sure that their lives would be much different. "you don't." he admitted simply with a small shake of his head. "you can't be completely sure that i won't do any of that stuff and i understand why you don't trust me. i wouldn't trust me either. it's weird, when i come from, we'd already worked through all of this and were happy." a chuckle slipped from his lips as he shook his head before the expression on his face turned serious. "i can say that i'll never do any of those things again over and over until i'm blue in the face, but all i can do is show you over time that i won't stab you, leave or lie to you again. i can promise if anyone wants me to become a traitor, you'll be the first person i turn to." he tried to joke again before a sigh slipped from his lips. "you just have to be willing to give me a chance. to open the door a little bit and be willing to let me in."

[twinkletalon]

And now the last one, and now whose turn?

[fatherentropy]

Yngve the Undying & Sheogorath's Laughing Lily

aka, woman whose father was murdered tired of annoying cousin complaining about his father who loves him.

The dialogue on this one feels weird but also Yngve has a bad habit of talking like he's better than everyone (due to usually playing the Only Sane Man role) and Lily just adapts the personality of whomever she's around so it's not necessarily OOC? My standards for myself are just very high and I do not like it but AY! fuck it

I NEED!!! To plan where I'm cutting these strips at the beginning so I'm not sitting here for an hour yelling at myself about it lmfao orz

[mvsicinthedvrk]

Now that she's pointed it out, maybe he would think-- not that she was an imposter, necessarily, but he'd definitely be concerned that something odd was going on. Though now that he's given her the invitation to come in the non-wraith way, he'll be less likely to jump to negative conclusions. "...frogs?" Kaz repeats, though he's somewhat sure that he'd be far more at peace not knowing about why Wylan Van Eck knows so much about amphibians and felt the need to share that knowledge with Inej. Best case scenario, the frogs in the maze were relatively normal, but he can't confirm as none had crossed his path. He's not surprised she's been taking the opportunity to explore... the buildings aren't as cramped here, and the sky seems higher somehow; it's a welcome improvement in a number of ways that don't entirely make up for losing their territory back home but do help soften the blow. "I could have called," he acknowledges. Jesper had scolded him for nearly the same reason recently, and that's almost enough to make him feel guilty, though not quite. "I don't like talking on the phone without seeing the other person's face. Phones are capable of video calls, yes, but then you're forced to stare at your own face as well, and hold the heavy thing up at the most uncomfortable angle, to be rewarded with a sub-par audio quality. It's insufferable." He pauses, before adding less heatedly, "I wasn't sure if you would mind if I called for no reason, either." He doesn't have a good frame of reference for these things, and doesn't know how much he's allowed to want to intrude on Inej's free time. If she comes here, that's a clear enough sign, but when she's gone, even if he wishes she weren't it's hard to tell where the line should be drawn.

"You'd assume I was some sort of imposter on the spot if I did that." Inej said, smiling slightly at the idea. It was almost amusing, to think that if she really watched to Kaz off guard she could probably just walk straight through the door. "Wylan taught me about frogs, so things were a little difficult, but it could have been worse." She joked, still in a good mood knowing everyone had gotten out of there alright. The crows had certainly been through more dangerous, but that didn't ever make it easier when she knew they were in danger. Some of that lighthearted energy tensed up at his other statement, though it was hard to say why. Kaz seemed to be checking in, at least in whatever way Kaz was capable of doing so, which was kind, though frustrating knowing he could have reached out at any times. She shrugged."I've been learning the city. There's a lot of streets to memorize." And frankly she had been enjoying it. Washington was a much nicer place to be than Ketterdam. Inej still didn't appreciate being trapped here, or anywhere, but this was more freedom than she'd had in a long time. She wasn't going to stop herself from doing the little things that caught her interest. "You could always call." She pointed out, biting back the addition of if you need me for a job that almost left her mouth. She would be happy to talk to Kaz for more than that, though she was never certain if he felt the same, or just wanted to make sure his investment didn't stray too far. Regardless, she wasn't going to just disappear from him.

[skyward-floored]

Finished, Peg! ❤️❤️❤️

Please be careful with the merchandise (auction, Hyrule POV) - 3400 words

Warnings same as the original: stabbing, blood mentioned, torture, a bit of dehumanization

Hyrule felt uneasy.

He knew, better than most, what powerful magic in the wrong hands was capable of – trying to keep his cursed blood out of the hands of his era's monsters had repeatedly taught him that – so when the Chain landed in Legend's Hyrule and received Zelda's letter concerning the black market that dealt in rare and dangerous magics, he was more than happy to join Legend in working to root it out.

The uneasiness only increased as the Chain split up to look for information, and he stuck very close to Twilight's side as they wandered the crowded streets. Never comfortable with crowds, he let Twilight do the talking, simply trying to listen and observe while simultaneously trying to quell the itch that something wasn’t right. Shortly after they'd stopped for lunch, they'd found a man – fairly well dressed, with enough jewelry to put Legend to shame – who claimed to have information about the market. He'd asked them to follow him through an alley so they could, “discuss this in a more private location,” but before they could make it to the other side they found themselves closely surrounded by large, heavily-armed men.

Hyrule's senses went haywire, magic gathering at his fingertips, and he felt Twilight bristling beside him. Somehow, the men seemed to draw even closer at the faint glow around his hands.

“You boys look a bit lost,” one of the men sneered, looking directly at Hyrule. “Anything we can help you with?”

Hyrule tried to project confidence, despite how he continued to press close to Twilight's side. “We don’t want any trouble.”

The man's sneer turned to a smirk, and he laughed softly. “Fairies never do.”

Hyrule froze, feeling as if one of Wild's bombs had gone off too close, ice instead of shrapnel in his veins. How did they know?!

The men lunged for him, tearing him from Twilight's side before either hero could react. Twi shouted and tried to get him back, only to collapse in a heap as one of the men clubbed him roughly over the head.

“No! Twi!” Hyrule struggled to free himself, magic sparking frantically, but all he got was a hit to his own head for his trouble, knocking him down to the cold stone of the alleyway. He felt manacles clamp firmly around his wrists, then rough hands lifting him to his feet.

His magic fizzled out as his consciousness wavered. The last thing he heard before fading entirely was from one of the men holding his arms. “He's a strong one. He’ll fetch quite a pretty sum, once we break him a bit.”

-------------

It was very dark when Hyrule finally woke, head aching, though a faint light flickered in the distance. For just a moment, he wondered if he was back in one of the caves in his own era. However, when he moved to rub the ache out of his head, the chains shifting around his wrists brought everything back into sharp, terrifying focus. A chill settled over him like a shroud as he remembered the words spoken by what must have been some of the black market dealers. Somehow, they knew about his fairy blood, and they intended to sell him off, like he was no more than a fancy pot, to be used at will. The imagery of a pot made his stomach flip and his head spin as he recalled they’d mentioned breaking him.

He had to get out of here, wherever here was.

With a burst of energy born of fear, Hyrule tried to get to his feet, only to stumble dizzily back to the ground as his vision turned fuzzy and he tripped over the chain around his ankle. Placing his head between his knees, Hyrule tried to breathe through the wind rushing in his ears.

Once he felt settled again, Hyrule took a moment to take stock of where he was. By the barely visible torchlight he looked around, finding himself inside a small, barred cell, more like a cage than anything. With his ankle chained to a ring in the center of the cage floor, he could reach out and touch all four sides of the cage, and the ceiling looked a little low. Probably would have bumped my head again if I’d managed to stand up. He couldn’t see much besides open hallway to either side, and the mustiness in his nose could have belonged to any dungeon.

With a general idea of his surroundings, dismal as they were, Hyrule turned his attention to himself. The mercenaries appeared to have taken all of his adventuring gear, leaving him with little more than his clothing and his magic. Aside from the bump on his head, he also had several bruises forming on his arms where the mercenaries hadn’t bothered to be gentle when kidnapping him, as well as a few small cuts that were slowly weeping blood. He reached up to heal those out of habit, an ingrained defense after years of being hunted by the monsters of his era. His magic was a little lower than he would have liked in a situation like this, but by no means was it depleted. He still had enough to make an escape attempt.

As Hyrule began to contemplate how he could escape – the Fairy spell uses a lot of magic, but it would certainly get me out of this cage – he heard a door open in the distance, and the torchlight steadily grew brighter.

Weaponless, but not helpless, Hyrule again gathered his magic to his fingertips and rose to his knees as several sets of footsteps drew closer, prepared to cast any spell that might give him a winning chance of escaping alive. When the footsteps stopped outside his cell, however, all thoughts and intents fled his mind.

The well-dressed man with the jewelry they had been following through the alley stood in front of him, mouth leering and eyes bright with greed. The armed guards from the alley stood behind him.

“You!” he gaped, desperately trying to jump-start his brain. “You're-"

“The ringleader of this little operation, yes.” The man's voice oozed, and Hyrule shuddered as the man's greedy eyes looked him over, stopping intently on the places that still showed remnants of his blood. “You certainly made it easier on us, following me into that alley. I honestly thought we’d have to work harder to capture you.”

Hyrule shuddered again, but through the fear and discomfort his mind was starting to move once more. He rallied his magic but didn’t make a move just yet, hoping to gain some insight as to what was going on. “Where am I? Where’s Twilight?!”

“Your friend?” The man waved a bejeweled hand, dismissing the question entirely. “He doesn’t matter. What does matter,” at this, the man's predatory smile grew even wider, “is you, and the magic you possess.”

Hyrule's heart dropped into his boots, his fears confirmed. They knew he was half fairy, they knew about his magic, and they had absolutely every intention of keeping him here until their opportunity to sell him in the black market.

Determination welled within him, his gathered magic begging to be used, but before he could so much as snap his fingers for the Thunder spell a spear was shoved through the bars of the cage, ripping through tunic and flesh alike. A near-silent scream left him as he clutched at his wounded side, offensive magic forgotten. A second and third spear were thrust through the bars in his distraction, one making painful purchase against his upper arm while the other came to rest, gleaming in the torchlight, at his throat.

Pink healing light leaked from Hyrule's fingertips, habit again surfacing as he tried to stem the flow of blood from his wounds. He knew he needed to conserve his magic, but he also needed to stay alive if he was to have any chance at escaping. Through it all, the man watched him intently. Soon enough, he pulled a ring of keys from his pocket, inserting one into the lock as the light of healing magic faded. Hyrule gasped in left-over shock, spear still at his throat.

“Try anything,” the man warned, turning the key in the lock, “and we’ll hunt down the men you were with. A few of them had rather promising magics as well.”

Outrage flared in Hyrule’s heart alongside concern for his brothers. He didn’t want to do as the man asked, wanted to let the Thunder out and escape with magic blazing, but he couldn’t risk his brothers' safety. He remained still as the man crouched in front of him, seething as his bloody tunic and freshly-healed wounds were scrutinized.

“Fascinating,” the man murmured delightedly. “This is powerful magic indeed.” He withdrew just a bit from Hyrule's space, but remained close due to the size of the cage.

A knife appeared in the man's hands, spinning mindlessly as calculating eyes narrowed, clearly weighing options, risks, costs, and statistics. At some unknown signal, the spear was withdrawn from the cage. Hyrule’s small sigh of relief collapsed into a shout of agony as the knife was suddenly thrust into his stomach. The man left it there for a few moments, gauging Hyrule’s reaction, before pulling it out again, blood dripping on the floor between them.

“Do it again,” he commanded as Hyrule curled protectively around the wound. He shook his head frantically, but screamed anew as the knife again found a place inside his body.

“Do. It. Again,” the man demanded, but Hyrule again refused. The man's eyes narrowed in anger. “Potion!” he barked, and a bottle of red potion exchanged hands. The man reached out and forced Hyrule to drink the potion, struggling weakly and trying not to choke.

The moment the bottle was empty, the knife streaked forward again. Faster than Hyrule's dazed mind could track, several cuts bloomed across his arms and torso before the blasted knife again found purchase in his abdomen. The knife was mercilessly twisted as it was removed, and Hyrule collapsed to the floor with a broken cry, shivering weakly, blood dripping though his fingers and staining his tunic, the potion he’d been given effectively made useless.

“Heal yourself.” The man sounded bored, as if he was talking about the weather, not actively torturing a teenager. This time, shaky hands welled with pink magic, rapidly decreasing reserves straining to heal the grievous wounds. By the time he finished, Hyrule knew his magic was dangerously low. He would not have enough to heal himself again, never mind attempt to escape.

The man seemed to realize this as well, for he stood, unconcerned, and locked the cage behind him, leaving Hyrule to his trembling exhaustion and the overwhelming scent of his own blood. He and his goons left without a backwards glance, taking the light with them.

Hyrule was left to the dark and the cold, curling weakly around his still-aching stomach, a plea to the goddesses on his lips. He hoped his brothers found him soon. He wasn’t sure how much more of this he could take.

-------------

Hyrule’s time in the cage – he had no idea how long they kept him there – progressed in distressingly similar fashion. Sometimes it was the man and his knife, others it was a pack of the goons with nothing more than their fists. Every interaction left him bruised and bleeding, ears ringing with the taunts and jeers of the men as they loudly wondered exactly how much they could get for him.

Every attempt to regain a semblance of magic naturally was interrupted and drained by another cut, another beating. They never brought him food, and only twice brought him water. He tried again to refuse to heal himself maybe two days in, only to be force-fed another red potion and stabbed again, and again, and again, until every scrap of magic he possessed was wrung dry and they had to give him a bit of green potion – carefully measured out to be exactly just enough – before he passed out from blood loss.

They left Hyrule alone for a while after that, and he gratefully fell into fitful slumber, too exhausted to dream. He was woken what felt like mere hours later by another beating, and the stubborn hope he’d held onto that his brothers would find him began to wane as he tried to protect his head. Where were they? Wolfie, if he was around, should have been able to find him, right? He knew now that he’d never regain enough magic to escape on his own, so he placed his faith and hope in his brothers, desperate for rescue.

-------------

An indeterminate amount of time and pain later, Hyrule was roused from semi-consciousness by a none-too-gentle boot in his ribs and a key in the lock of the chains around his ankle. He found himself roughly dragged out of the cage and upright, feet stumbling and head spinning at the change in elevation. The mercenaries dragged him up several flights of stairs and into dull moonlight.

For the first time in an age, fresh air graced Hyrule’s nose and lungs, and he sucked it in greedily. Somewhere he found the strength to try and break free, but he only made it a few steps before the mercenaries caught him again. Still, he struggled with everything he possessed, aching for freedom. The men kicked his unsteady legs out from under him, and he crashed to the ground, dazed. One of the biggest men bundled him into a tarp, then picked him up as if he were no more than a misbehaving child.

Hyrule felt himself carried up some steps, then heard the detestable voice of the ringleader – auctioneer, he realized with a jolt – as he was set down on a hard surface, the chain still around his ankle secured tight once again. “A truly one-of-a-kind rarity, our most valuable piece this evening, I give you...” The tarp was ripped away from his body, and he winced at the harsh light suddenly surrounding him, “a half-hylian, half-fairy!”

Murmurs of awe erupted through the crowd of auction-goers as he tried to blink the room into focus. Hoping against hope that his brothers had learned about the auction and were somewhere in the crowd, Hyrule started scanning faces. He felt his heart lift as he saw Sky standing close to the stage, and it absolutely soared when he saw Legend next to him. He fought hard to keep the elation and relief off his face, ears ringing with the single thought whirling through his mind. They’re here. They came!

A horribly familiar pain suddenly ripped through his stomach, and Hyrule though he heard Legend cry out as he curled instinctively around the newest stab wound, weakly trying to keep from bleeding out, not a drop of magic left in his body. The auctioneer let him cringe for a few moments, then thrust a ridiculously small amount of green potion at him. “Now heal,” he said, face calm but voice laced with warning.

Hyrule spat out a now familiar glob of blood, then glared at the auctioneer with every bit of fire, determination, and courage he could muster. He didn’t care that he could feel himself paling from blood loss. He didn’t care that the auctioneer was beginning to anger. His brothers were here, and he would not perform for the sake of the crowd.

The auctioneer drew closer, growling just loud enough for Hyrule to hear. “Heal or I’ll shove a red potion into you and stab you as many times as it takes for you to use your magic. I honestly thought you’d have learned by now.”

Hyrule's determination blazed for a minute or two longer, but at the thought of his brothers watching him be stabbed again, his resolve crumbled. He took the bottle of potion, closing his eyes as he swallowed the single sip.

Pressing his hands back to his wound, he gathered his weak magic to pool in his gut, closing the wound. The magic faded to nothing again as the wound sealed itself shut. Weak from blood loss and exhausted by his ordeal, he slumped forward, barely even twitching as the auctioneer grabbed his tunic and yanked, exposing the bloody but completely healed skin underneath.

“That proof enough?” the auctioneer crowed, and a roar of assent rose from the crowd. A smile bloomed in his voice, “Bidding starts at 30,000 rupees.”

Awareness faded as Hyrule collapsed to the floor, head floating and semi-conscious. He vaguely heard the buzz of numbers being called out, but he couldn’t bring himself to listen. He was just so tired.

One number, or rather, one voice, pierced through the haze of his mind. “60,000 rupees!” Was that…Wind? The white noise of the crowd died immediately.

One voice gasped loudly, dramatically, then a voice declared, “63,000!” Warriors?

The crowd as a whole gasped as Wind and Warriors continued their bidding war. Hyrule suddenly felt something moving near his ankle, twitching the chain around. Confused, he pried his eyes open. “…Four?” he mumbled, disbelieving.

“Hey, traveler. I’ve almost got this chain free, just give me a minute,” Four murmured, fiddling with the lock, eyes seeming an odd mix of blue and red to his hazy vision.

Screams of shock and pain suddenly rang though the crowd, sounding like they originated from the auctioneer and his goons. Four finished with the chain on his ankle and moved to the handcuffs on his wrists as the rest of the crowd erupted in panic, no doubt caused by the rest of his brothers.

Sky was suddenly at Hyrule's side, raising him to a sitting position and brushing his hair out of his face. “Hey ‘rule,” he said gently, eyes ablaze with concern as he took in the leftover cuts and bruises littering Hyrule's body. “We’re getting you out of here, okay?”

Relief and exhaustion fought within him, and it’s was all Hyrule could do to give Sky a weak smile and nod. A small, triumphant noise from Four heralded the release of the cuffs from his wrists, then Hyrule found himself bundled carefully into Sky's warm, safe arms.

Four in the lead, they started to run down the stage, but they found themselves surrounded by mercenaries as the auctioneer shrieked after them. Fighting broke out between the guards and the heroes, and Sky shifted Hyrule to one arm, determination shining clearly from his eyes.

Sky jerked and swayed as he balanced Hyrule in one arm and the Master Sword in the other, taking blows himself to keep Hyrule safe. Through the queasiness fogging his brain, Hyrule saw a sword aimed for Sky's head, and he yelped a warning, Sky ducking just in time.

The move jostled Hyrule even further, and suddenly there was a guard grasping his arm, trying to rip him from the safety of Sky's arms. He and Sky both struggled against the man, until a winged boot entered Hyrule's vision, kicking the guard in the jaw and sending him reeling.

With Legend's arrival, the remaining guards fled, giving the heroes some room to breathe.

“That scum-of-the-earth that stabbed Hyrule escaped,” Legend growled, glancing back at Sky. Hyrule shot him a weak grin at the familiar and so, so welcome ire, and he watched as the vet’s face softened, worry pinching at the corners of his eyes.

“I’m so sorry we didn’t get you sooner.” Legend said, guilt heavy in his voice. “Are you okay?”

Hyrule nodded. “Yeah...” he murmured, exhaustion and relief finally beginning to overwhelm him. “‘been using a lot of magic. Tired.”

Legend nodded, and ruffled his hair. “Probably the blood-loss too. You can sleep all you want once we get out of here, okay?”

Hyrule hummed in contentment and rested his head against Sky's arm, consciousness fading as the heroes rushed from the building.

-------------

Hyrule awoke a short time later as he was gently lowered to the ground, still resting against Sky's side, the other heroes gathering around them. Sky gently helped him sip a red potion until the bruises and cuts he’d sustained had healed some and the fog began to clear from his head. Hyrule took the potion bottle in his own hands and finished it, gratefully accepting the bottle of green potion – a FULL bottle, thank Hylia! – Four handed to him.

Vitality and magic finally rising inside him, Hyrule took Legend at his word, leaning into Sky's lap and quickly falling asleep, surrounded at last by safety and his brothers' care.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA *zooms around in circles and rereads this a dozen times*

THIS IS AMAZING OH MY GOSH I DON’T EVEN HAVE THE WORDS

THANK YOU SO MUCH SILV 💚💖💚💖💚💖💚💖💚💖💚💖💚💖💚💖💚💖

[sophiethewitch1]

hiiii!!! i love www so far, i think you’re doing such a good job <3 my fav rn is tim, but i wanted to ask who’s ur fav? and which batboy are you most excited to write about?!! can we get a sneak peek into some of your plans long term 🥹 only if you’re comfortable! i feel very inspired and i wanted to know some of your creative writing process for www/in general 🫶

POINTS AT SCREEN! Anon I love you!! If you write anything that's inspired by me you HAVE to tag me okay??!!! Non-negotiable!!! Also I love Tim too, I think I gravitate towards him most because he just screams late-diagnosed autism and he's a fellow high school dropout lmfao. But having a fav? No, we don't do that here. My fav changes hourly, minutely? Idk but rn I'm writing Grayson's introduction and his confused but loving ass is melting me. But I have scenes I'm bouncing off the walls for all of them. Thelma + Louise by Bastille chapter you are so loved <3 <3

Also!! Plans!! Long term!!!! Ahhhh, I'm feeling less and less like spoiling the big things, because I'm actually managing to write regularly and I really didn't think I would. But what I am willing to share... hm. So far there are 4 arcs (but they're almost more like books or parts...??? they're very very long D:) planned, built around mostly the different phases in your relationship. It's the love-hate, love-hate wave. Friends to enemies to lovers to enemies to lovers again lmfao. There also might be a 5th arc because I'm not exactly sure how I want the fic to end just yet. The yandere stuff only becomes an acknowledged thing at the end of part 1, and even then reader is very oblivious throughout part 2. So we've got a girl who is in denial almost as much as the guys. 'Okay they might, MIGHT be obsessed with me (might) but they're not in love with me. that's silly.' I may not have a favourite boy but I definitely have favourite arcs and it is 2 and 4. You will see why.

The document itself, not just the published parts is at 50k, which is 20k extra. Also, I have 169 tidbits done, hopefully we can condense and merge them because oh my fucking god 169 chapters is genuinely absurd. worryingly absurd. lets hope we never get to that point. Even if it is the sex number, I'm not doing it. Also I don't know what my creative process is I don't really remember things lmfao.