#there are like thousands of fanfics in the tag

[nowhateverthisnostopasking]

So, while this next idea would be ideally used in the DC Animated Movie Universe, it could work in a new continuity (though, damn do I wish otherwise. lol); nevertheless, it doesn't rely so much on established DCAMU canon as my earlier hoped for projects.

*The Idea*

I think the Titans would have a Christmas break, whenever there wasn't a major threat to address, anyway. I believe Bruce Wayne would invite Damian's new teammates to Wayne Manor, if they had nowhere else to go, plus he understood it was healthy for his son's emotional development and well-being. I think this was a basis for quite a few fanfics, so even though I thought of it before seeing them, I give credit to those who beat me to the punch and with actually comprehensive detail. aha

Raven would go, as she has no other home, and Beast Boy would tag along for fun, to be the little brother who - while a valued friend - would sometimes fail to read the room, so would interrupt what should be more intimate social outings. That lovable rascal. haha. And he'd mess up Alfred's kitchen trying to cook something vegetarian even though he can't prepare food himself yet; might be a fun character moment to have Damian prepare the food for everyone, to be one of those surprise skills that still make sense. Maybe add other Titans, but I don't know, just those three at minimum.

The primary threat would be Scarecrow, since he would be one of the most dangerous Gotham supervillains for them, especially Raven because her emotion-based powers would be violently disrupted by his fear toxin, and more simply his psychiatric expertise; similarly, her empath power would become agony as Scarecrow spreads fear throughout thousands of people, with all that fear crushing her. Hence, why Damian would be vital for her as he is someone who can control his terror better than most, so he could talk her down to focus only on his bravery, rather than on everyone else's fear.

On a tangent, I think Crane would have employed Killer Croc as muscle, who would serve as Beast Boy's rival in the story. Maybe even build a bit of a bond as worthy enemies through mutual understanding about being outcasts due to a condition they can't change.

I feel like a good element for the climax would be a reversal of Damian helping Raven, when Scarecrow's fear toxin actually works on Damian, so Raven can help him keep his sanity with fortitude she had thanks to the support he gave her earlier. What would Damian fear? It could be knowledge about being planned as just a weapon, but I doubt that would bother him yet. Fear of failure? I think his confidence was unflappable at this point. I believe the fear would likely be losing Raven, thus her being there would challenge and help him overcome that fear.

*Closing*

Not sure how the entire plot would pan out, but I'm an ideas person, the structure is done better by others. Still, it feels like it has potential as a baseline. Simply wanted to put this out ASAP while I thought of it.

Anyway, I'm a sucker for a half-decent pun, so the film would be called something like "The Knightmare Before Christmas." It'd be a nice bookend for the teammates to watch the name's inspiration at the start and end in one of the Wayne screening rooms. Might be a legal issue, but I've seen cross-company cooperation before for more than this.

Damian: I'm not afraid of anything.

Raven: I didn't see it as much as felt it, and I've been trying to shake it off ever since.

Scarecrow: Fear reveals the truth.

[watchyourbuck]

i dont mean this in like a baad way bc like i love ur fics and all but its so obvious to me that english isnt your first language like you make little mistakes here and there that copltly give it away. im sorry, maybe youd wanna check on those b4 posting next time

you know I write for free, right?

[gofishygo]

from april 15-16, i will not be uploading any content or interacting with any posts in respects to the global strike for palestine scheduled on april 15 .

every like this post gets (up to the 15 of april AEST) will be 1AUD donated to care for gaza .

(for any people living in australia, protests in melbourne and sydney may disrupt tram schedules or traffic flow . please be careful. for protesters, stay safe and make sure to pack water , food , and spare cash !!)

[seradyn]

No cause I need to crash out about this a little bit because YOURE SO RIGHT ABOUT THE MISOGYNY 😭😭

I’ve read SO many fics where Sylus is OOC it’s concerning. People can write what they want, I’m a firm believer in that, but it feels like we aren’t even talking about the same character sometimes. I’ve read fics where Sylus calls reader/mc ‘slut’ during intimacy and I physically recoiled because Sylus would rather die a thousand deaths than call us that. Even if you asked him to he’d double and triple check you actually wanted that and still probably wouldn’t be thrilled to.

Like…genuinely, you can write whatever trope/kink/whatever you want, but if you slap Sylus over it then at least tag it OOC. I read a cheater fic that wasn’t tagged and had a vague summary, and I just had to grimace when I realized that’s what the fic was because Sylus would never in a billion years EVER cheat on us. The same goes for the other Lis. They are designed to love us and only us. They would never be so desperate for sex that they would fucking cheat. ESPECIALLY Sylus, who has stated he’s never been with anyone else. Not to mention, this man doesn’t give a fuck about random flings or one night stands. This man makes love, wants more than anything to just be able to make you feel good and show you how much he loves you. Why do you think he asked for consent multiple times before he dove in, in Nightly Rendezvous? Men like that don’t cheat 😭😭

As for the fic you’re mentioning, I’m glad I haven’t seen it, cause that is just…so far from what Sylus would do 😩 That implies a level of emotional immaturity that Sylus has repeatedly shown he is not down with. He literally encourages us to feel our emotions in a healthy way, and wants to be the safe space where we can feel them without judgment. People like that aren’t going to ghost you out of pettiness, that is just so fundamentally incongruent with how he acts and what he says. I could maybe see Rafayel doing something like that, but even then I don’t think he’d ghost us for DAYS, that is just an insane level of childishness.

Speaking of Rafayel, I read fics of him and Xavier too, even though I’m a Sylus main, and this problem is not nearly as common or consistent in how they are misperceived. Rafayel does get mischaracterized, a lot of people tend to forget how dangerous he can be, but even then I don’t see it as often in fics. And Xavier, I’ve only seen one or two fics where he’s OOC, and usually it’s with the same tropes discussed above.

I think a lot of this issue stems from 1. Infold’s marketing team and 2. Sylus first few interactions with the player in the main story. Unfold framed Sylus as the booktok daddy dom alpha male in his trailer, and a lot of people haven’t been able to look past it to the kind of character he actually is. I also know quite a few people write for Sylus without actually playing the game, which is fine, but again, some OOC tags would be nice 😩 And as for the main story, if you don’t bother to dig any deeper, he does seem like some dark romance dom, but if you look into his lore, especially the dragon myth you can see so clearly just how much pain he is in that you don’t remember him. It breaks my heart replaying those parts now because you can just see the anguish in his eyes that the one person who saw him as more than a monster doesn’t remember him. It’s so fucking sad 😭😭

That being said, I do wish the game did more to address the way Sylus treated us at the start. I’ve read some incredible fics that do, specifically this one, and it’s so fucking good. It holds Sylus accountable while acknowledging how actually romantic and loving he is. That first meeting he wears a mask to hide his pain, and this fic gets it so so right.

As someone who has been writing fanfic for years, a lot of time my fics are almost like a character study, diving into how they would react in different situations, what has motivated them to become the character they are. Sometimes I get stuff OOC too, and I’ll often put little explanations in the notes about why I chose to make them act the way I do, how I came to that conclusion about them. That’s different then blatantly writing them to do and say things they would rather die than say or do for the sake of a kink or trope. Cause that’s what it boils down to most of the time.

I also understand we’re talking about a fictional character, and none of this really matters in the grand scheme of things. But as a fic author myself, it’s painful how much Sylus in particular is twisted into something he just fundamentally isn’t. Why not write for another character at that point? 😭

It’s so clearly misogynistic because woman are always expected to cater to the man. Always expected to make room for his emotions and not get that compassion back. I’ve seen it so often in real life, I just want to tell these woman YOU DESERVE SO MUCH BETTER. And the Lis want to be that better for you. As I wrote in my most recent Sylus fic, he would genuinely be so disappointed if you just rolled over and let him treat you like shit. Like, babes, who hurt you? An intimate partner should not be acting like a child with petty games like that 😭 It reminds me of that video of the guy saying “bitch, what’s for dinner?” to his gf, and when she responds meekly, he tells her to slap him if he ever speaks to her like that. That is Sylus. He’d want you to beat the shit out of him if he ever treated you that way. He loves and respects us way too much to let anyone, including himself, get away with that shit.

I’ve been meaning to make my own post about this, so sorry for the long crash out. I just…AHHH I MAKES ME WANT TO SCREAM. IVE SEEN THIS IN OTHER FANDOMS TOO IT MAKES ME INSANE

Hi! This is my first ask/time doing one of these but I just wanted to come here and say I ABSOLUTELY agree with practically EVERY word you said about sylus. Honestly BLESS your soul for you saying it because damn did it need to be said.

hihi, thank you for taking the time to send me something!

and thank you!!! i'm not usually one to post my 'hot takes' in public because i usually can't be bothered, but this really frustrated me. ESPECIALLY because i write my own fanfic, characterization is super important to me because if it doesn't feel like the character... what's the point, right? i get that there's a certain level of nuance to each character, and nobody but the creator of said characters is going to get them perfectly correct, but for god's sake sylus was CREATED by infold to love you, to be in love with you. this may just be my take, but having been on the recieving end of that treatment: nobody who truly loves you would ignore you for something so inconsequential to sylus as a buisness meeting or whatever. (i have two specific fics in mind but i don't want to reference them speficially because i'm genuinely not trying to call out anyone in particular)

because like. again, from what my friend has said and from what @bloomfalls and @seradyn have added to my og post in the tags, sylus wants YOU and only YOU. he's not the type of man to leave you wondering, to make you second guess his feelings.

^ direct quote from said friend ily dawg ur the realest

writing fanfic is really hard, esp when it comes to characterization, but i feel like in a game where these guys are SPECIFICALLY love interests it's like... guys the writing is on the walls, the floor, the cieling, and a sticky note duct taped to your forehead. it's so easy. for other fandoms, where it's not focused on love interests it's harder to be like 'x wouldn't act like this', so i will 100% give those people grace. but if i wrote something for sylus, (winkwinknudgenudge) i feel like! it would be pretty easy, given how we are GIVEN A MANUAL ON HOW HE TREATS THE PERSON HE LOVES.

and lastly: as i said, writing sylus so that he expects the reader to come crawling back to him after dogshit treatment and having the reader do exactly that, is misogynistic. i'm sorry, it has to be said.

[dandelion-wings]

Finally from the second whumptober list: October 29 ownership/branding - any character BUT the branding/ownership has to be something they're doing to protect the other person / Brand Or Die

Thank you for lighting my brain on fire with this one, holy shit. Sorting out who I would do it with was really the hardest part, there's so much potential, especially delving into AUs, but I think this was the best canon option and of course you knew it was coming because I could not shut up. XD

---

ETA: Now on AO3.

---

Xiao is not surprised by the attack. He had not known its time or its place, but the fact of it had been inevitable. Morax and his yaksha generals cannot shelter him forever.

He is alone on the training field, practicing in the generals' absence. They are on the battlefield, serving Morax against his enemies. Xiao should be there too, but Morax has deemed him not yet fit--had dismissed him when he presented himself among the yaksha on the battle's eve, telling him that he must mend completely before he enters the fight in his savior's name. So all Xiao can do is train until he regains the strength he lost after his hated last master's defeat, and hope for Morax's swift approval of his efforts.

The attackers, it seems, mean to give him no chance to try and repay his debt on the field of battle. It is not only Morax whom he owes a debt to, after all. That debt is one of gratitude; the one that he owes these people is one of guilt.

It's because of both debts that he doesn't fight back. While the Millelith are on the field of battle too, some of these are Morax's people: injured soldiers or yaksha who have been held back as Xiao was, or civilians inexpertly wielding weapons or expertly wielding tools of the farmers' trade. They are under Morax's protection, and it would be unbearably shameful to harm them. The others may not be under his guardianship, may be bound to other gods, but they are people Xiao has wronged, too. From their resentment alone he knows these are the comrades and kin of the many righteous souls he was once forced to slaughter.

He does retreat, step by step, lifting his spear only to block strikes with the shaft, ducking or side-stepping others. Not all are so easily turned away. By the time he's backed up to the wall of the training grounds, he's already covered with dozens of minor wounds, cuts and bruises and gouges where borrowed blades or swinging hoes found their mark. His attackers crowd in, and there's no longer room to sidestep--not without bowling over the teary-eyed, half-grown child on his left, or the fierce-faced old woman to his right.

A one-armed yaksha right in front of him wrenches his spear from his hands with her good arm. "My whole division," she hisses, eyes glowing with fury, "every one of them."

"My father," the child says, fierce-faced through his tears, and, "My daughter," says the woman. Xiao tilts his head back as the yaksha spins the spear, feeling the weight of their massed resentment seizing at his throat. He doesn't wish to die. If he had, Morax's hand, outheld, would not have been such a blessing. But he knows that he deserves it, that Morax's act had been an unthinkable grace.

As his own spear is leveled against him, Xiao tilts his head back, baring his throat. Then there's a sudden clatter from the gates to the right, and a sudden scramble amid the outraged group, and then Bosacius is in amid them, roaring remonstrations, flinging the yaksha who'd taken his spear from him to the ground. Xiao sags against the wall, lets his head fall, and closes his eyes.

He should feel grateful for this rescue, as he had for Morax's outstretched hand. Yet the unsatisfied resentment all around him grinds against his soul like broken glass.

---

Morax stands before an assembly of allies just as furious as he is, even if none of them can shake the ground with their rage. Their alliance is a precarious one, for Celestia has made clear that only one with power of their scope can be left alive at the end of its holy war. Just as Morax has built a seal against the thought of that when he sits in peaceful moments with Guizhong, he typically walls it away when dealing with these allies.

How they cope he does not know. All of them are in agreement as to how gods should treat their mortal dependents; thus they have agreed to remain allied until circumstances leave them no other choice. Right now, though, the ire crackling between them makes him wonder if at least one is contemplating an earlier break.

"I will not *punish* my people for attempting to do what you already should have done," says that most furious god, smoke swirling about their ashen form.

(Three years from now one of their own yaksha, much-beloved, will die in a stratagem Morax devises, and they will be crushed beneath Azhdaha's power when they try to assassinate Morax in revenge. Morax will make contracts with all of their remaining yaksha who do not follow their lead, and eventually all those who survive the War and its aftermath will willingly perish in the Chasm, redeeming that ancient breach.)

"They have already suffered enough," says another, more reasonable, whose grainy skin crunches at every movement. "I am willing to forbid them from another such attempt, but punishment will only harden their resentment."

(Five years from now he will sacrifice himself to guard his people's retreat from Osial, begging Bonanus to carry his plea that Morax take on his people's care. Morax will accept that final contract, and they will become fishers and sailors, the ones whose knowledge helps build Liyue Harbor when the Guili Plains flood.)

Nails that glitter like clearwater jade flash as the third gestures wordlessly to the God of Sand, silently echoing his sentiments.

(Eleven years from now she will depart in silence and fade away, pouring herself into the waters of Lisha, willing to diminish herself to avoid Celestia's edict and in the end losing all recognizable sense of who she once was. Morax will allow her people to build a shrine to her by the waters, and long after they have forgotten he will go now and then himself to burn incense to her memory.)

The God of Ash is not content with the conciliation--and it is conciliation; Morax can see the narrowed gem-like eyes and the stiffness of restraint--of the other two. They start forward, eyes flashing like embers. "What right did you have in the first place, Morax, to spare him? It was never only your people that he slaughtered. My own territory was also on *that* god's borders, and was just as much a battlefront! Yaksha I loved killed or dismembered at his hand, whole villages of mine lost to his appetite for dreams, and you let him live without even asking us?"

"Morax is not the first to have seized an enemy's yaksha as spoils of their defeat," Guizhong says, but even her calming smile and pointed look cannot soothe the smoke swelling out and beginning to fill the room.

Morax lets the ground shudder again beneath his feet. "I made a contract with Alatus. Whatever you may think I should have done, I cannot break it now."

"No," says the God of Sand, before the smoke can begin to choke them or the floor itself crack. "But your contracts with your yaksha require them only to defend *your* people from harm. I don't think it's unreasonable to ask that in this case, you require of him another, asking that all of ours be safe as well."

The God of Shells nods, ornaments of noctilucous jade and coral chiming in her hair. "And we will witness its making."

"Very well."

By Bosacius' report, Xiao had already refused to harm their people, not only Morax's own. The request isn't only reasonable; he doesn't doubt that his newest yaksha will welcome it. He has seen the weight of guilt in Xiao's eyes already. Had he not demanded his service in repayment for sparing his life, he doubts Xiao would ever have risen from where he knelt the moment after his last master's death, offering himself up to Morax's spear.

"And I will invoke another contract," the God of Ash says, "since you value those more than you value our goodwill. The one between us dictates the punishment of those of your underlings who without provocation harm our own. It does not limit that harm to what is done in your service. I will allow my comrades to let him off lightly, as he is no longer *that* god's yaksha, but at the very least, you will make clear that he is now yours."

"How so?" asks Guizhong, her gaze sharp, as she puts a gentle hand on Morax's arm.

"By inscribing both your first contract and this second directly into his flesh. I could demand his death!" they hiss before Morax can roar his denial. "If you agree to all our terms, I will be merciful, and demand only this."

This time, the floor does crack, tiles parting in twain. Yet Morax can feel the clauses of the contract draw tight as the God of Ash invokes them, binding him more firmly than any rope. It is his will that spoke them into being; it is his power that goes with them if he breaks them from within.

"Very well," he says, and this time it is not a polite concession, but a dragon's angry growl, resonating within the smoke.

---

Morax is angry, and Xiao does not know why.

He outlines the terms of the contracts he is bound by, and has no choice but to bind Xiao by in turn, in a voice that drops now and then into a growl. So, too, does the ground shake beneath him as he does. Xiao had dropped to his knees the moment he entered Morax's presence, and so he does not stumble and lose his footing, but each little tremor makes him bow his head lower, useless as it seems to appease this rumbling rage.

However it might show around them, though, Morax restrains it enough to touch Xiao only gently, his grip firm but not at all tight. He raises Xiao's chin as if he's handling some precious object, and forces Xiao to meet his eyes. Xiao resists the urge to close them. This is Morax's will.

"Do you agree to this contract?" Morax asks.

Xiao is confused by the question, but he has been asked for an answer. "As my lord wishes," he says, lowering his gaze, since Morax's hold on him prevents him from bowing his head.

The ground shakes again, harder. His answer has not softened his god's anger either. But Morax's grip stays perfectly steady, not tightening one iota. "Then we will go and have it witnessed," he says in a voice like a mountain readying an avalanche.

---

There are no other witnesses but the other three gods and Guizhong at his side. Morax would have fought for that if he had to. Xiao could be a great general of yaksha someday, should his spirit mend from the damage done to it, and Morax would not have those he might lead witness his torment. Not even his other generals, who have taken Xiao under their wing; Guizhong had whispered that it might be better for them not to witness it either, for the sake of Xiao's pride.

Pride is not something Xiao's wounded spirit is capable of, but she isn't wrong. That will come with mending. Morax would not have him look back then and feel this shames him in front of those who wish to welcome him as their brother-in-arms.

Xiao strips to the waist without hesitation when Morax instructs him to bare his skin. He starts to drop to his knees, to bow his head. The God of Ash demands that he stand.

"I need a more stable surface," Morax says.

Turning his back to Morax, Xiao says, "I will be so for my lord."

His spine is a straight line of determination, but for all the firmness in his voice, it comes out flat. The resentment swirling around this room is strong enough that even Morax can feel it; a yaksha, far more sensitive, must feel deeply oppressed. A god's resentment is a powerful thing, and these three carry not just their own wounds but those of all their followers.

"Very well," Morax says, with the weight of the contract he's forging, and raises his hand to draw it across the small of Xiao's back.

The first stroke runs at an angle across Xiao's spine. His skin shivers under Morax's stroke. Power flows with it, out of Morax's fingertips and into his flesh, twisting and hardening it, leaving a raised thick line that isn't a burn but twists like one into a keloid scar. Unlike a scar, Morax knows it still aches with the weight of his power. Such alteration of flesh only slowly becomes bearable, and never entirely loses its feeling.

Aside from the involuntary twitch, Xiao does not move at all. He stares straight ahead. From behind Morax can't see his face. He wouldn't be surprised if it's impassive; Xiao's tendency towards stoicism has been clear since his first day in Morax's keeping.

Without raising his fingertips from Xiao's skin, he draws the next line, shorter, slanted upwards in the other direction. The keloid lines left behind are reddened, but darkening quickly to rusted brown. When they finally heal, they'll be amber. Morax has inscribed contracts in this way before. All of the previous have been upon the unwilling.

Three more lines, each shorter than the last, all connected together in one folding triangular shape. A contract such as this does not need to be inscribed in words to be binding. Not when it's Morax's power that makes it such. The stamp of Geo is all that is necessary, and will double, for the God of Ash's satisfaction, as a brand.

Morax raises his hand a few inches. "So," he says, a dragon's growl, letting the floor shake for a second while there's no risk it will make Xiao stumble and mar the pattern. "That affirms the first contract. I will begin the second."

Words, clauses, careful phrasings pile up in his mind, stones building the unyielding wall that will bar Xiao from harming the people of any allied gods. Morax sets his fingertips back against Xiao's skin.

---

The God of Ash is staring at Xiao with a hunger that is both like and unlike Xiao's previous master. *That* god had delighted in the pain Xiao caused others, sometimes demanding he drag prisoners into the court and dispose of them exactly as instructed, slowly and exactingly or swiftly and messily at turns. When the whim had struck and no prisoners were at hand, Xiao had also suffered for that delight. There is something of that in this god's burning eyes.

It isn't, though, quite the same. Xiao doesn't dare to meet that gaze, knows it would only offend further; instead he fixes his own on the far wall, looking past all three of Morax's allies. He stills himself as he had stilled himself when his previous master had looked around the court for someone to enact that suffering upon. He has never been certain how to act under torture. If he stood impassive, his past master had made it worse in order to draw out a reaction; when he let it show too early, the punishment for weakness had been just as bad. But staying expressionless when he was doling it out always seemed to bore that god faster, just a little, so that he had to inflict slightly less pain to those he killed.

Morax is the god of Geo. Xiao hopes that a stone face is what he wants.

The first line feels like a wall dropped upon the base of his spine. It's only his control of Anemo that keeps Xiao from gasping. He pulls air in and out, slow and steady, as Morax continues the pattern.

Pain is familiar. That doesn't make it any less unpleasant, but it does make it easier to bear. What hangs heavier on Xiao's shoulders is the weight of resentment in the room. That of his attackers' has been festering in his chest since that failed attack, dragging at each breath. Having their gods before him, the focus of all their angry prayers, increases that weight tenfold.

The weight of all his sins. Those angry prayers are pleas for a justice that Morax has chosen to exempt him from. Xiao knows that he deserves even more punishment than this.

But *Morax* has chosen to exempt him. And by doing so, he has taken any choice away from Xiao. All Xiao can do is the will of his new master, the one who spared him in battle, the one who gave him a name, the one who took his service in exchange. It is Morax's will that he lives. The contract Morax is inscribing upon his flesh is its testimony.

Therefore, it is Xiao's obligation to accept this weight, and refuse to let it crush him. No matter what his sins might deserve.

Each line carries equal weight to the first, driving into the small of his back with all the force that Morax can bring to bear. Such force has carved valleys and uprooted mountains, raised cities and drawn the dragon Azhdaha from the earth. Xiao breathes in and out, long and slow, gaze still pinned on the wall beyond but slowly going unfocused as all his concentration centers in on bearing it.

Morax lifts his hand. Xiao is only half-aware of the ground shaking, or what he's saying. He's intimately aware of the sigil of his new god, and agonizingly aware of the one inscribed upon his back. He knows that it's only half-finished. There will be more.

"As Rex Lapis, known as Morax, God of Contracts, I make this contract with my yaksha general Alatus, known as Xiao."

Xiao just barely manages not to start. General? He's no general. Morax doesn't even consider him yet fit for the field. But the names are true, and he can feel Morax's power leaning upon him to answer. If this is some contractual loophole that Morax is crafting, all Xiao can do is play along. If it's not... all Xiao can do is answer as Morax desires.

"I, Alatus, make this contract with my lord," he says, making himself look again at the wall. There is an uneven crack in the wood caused by the shaking of the floor; he knows it to be from that tremor just now, because it wasn't there before.

This time, the line drawn across Xiao's back doesn't feel like a wall coming down. It feels like grit ground into a wound, or raw flesh dragged across gravel. The grinding feeling of it doesn't cease when Morax's finger comes to a stop, but continues to build, growing steadily and without surcease.

"As my servant, you will respect the servants of my allies as if they were your own comrades."

"I will, my lord," Xiao says.

The second line is as grating harsh as the first, the same sensation of sharp pebbles poured into his flesh. Continuing to pour, as the first line continues to grind, the pain of it steadily rising high.

"You will protect, defend, and give shelter to the people of my allies as if they were my own people."

"I will, my lord."

As the third line gouges through his flesh, the first two seem almost to feed upon it. The pain is so intense, so grating and blunt, that Xiao could almost imagine it turning into pressure, like gravel is indeed piling up on open wounds, gouging flesh as it sinks deeper.

"You will never turn your strength upon them, or do them harm," Morax says, voice hard and rumbling dragon-loud, "except to defend yourself, and then only in defense."

The weight of the other gods' resentment redoubles, and the God of Ash hisses, something crackling in the sound, like flame being stirred by wind. "*Never*," Xiao gasps out, not sure whether he's choking on his sins or on smoke.

He welcomes the fourth line, the grating, digging agony of it, the first by now truly incomprehensible as anything but pressure if he wishes to stay conscious. The hunger in the God of Ash's eyes isn't delight at all. It's pure and eager hate.

"Should the general Alatus break this contract, his life, and his service with me, are forfeit, by my guarantee."

The last line is almost painless compared to the still-building pressure of those before. Xiao feels like he's floating, light-headed, aware of nothing but the Anemo flowing around him and the screaming agony at the small of his back. He has to consciously force air into his lungs to find breath for an answer.

"As my lord wills," he says, and the escalating pain of the new contract solidifies all at once, all five lines of it hammering into his spine with the implacable weight of stone.

Morax lifts his hand away and catches Xiao easily as he falls. Xiao catches a glimpse of the God of Ash's face before he folds over the solid bar of his lord's arm. Their satisfaction is almost glee, and yet, for the first time Xiao feels a sense of satisfaction in return. A modicum of justice has been done, within the limitations imposed by Morax's will.

Some of the weight of resentment in the room has eased. Not much, not when these gods hold all of their peoples' as well as their own. But witnessing his punishment must have been some salve. As much as being so punished had been for him. The guilt doesn't drag so heavily now.

He tries to stand again, but there's no strength in his limbs. Morax lifts him over his shoulder as easily as if he were a sash being tried on. He is careful not to touch the brand, though Xiao doesn't imagine that his touch would make it hurt any more than it already does.

"Our contract is complete," Morax says. Whether to Xiao or to the other gods, Xiao doesn't know. It must include those others, for Morax turns and strides out of the room with Xiao still over his shoulder, Guizhong a floating presence trailing along behind. Each step shakes the ground.

As they leave the gods' resentment behind entirely, Xiao's breath comes easier, and easier still. The weight of his sins still lies within him, and always well. But its weight is counterbalanced by the weight of his lord's symbol at the base of his spine. Xiao will accept that stamp without question. The pain is nothing against the guarantees that it provides.

[danzainosolitude]

Once again I read fanfiction that seems to have been precisely written to deal psychic damage to me.

[jinxedruby]

Ambush at the Bridge: Chapter Five

And finally, the conclusion. Man, this is long.

AO3

First part | <- Previous part

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

“This really isn’t necessary, Rancher.”

“You can say that as many times as you want, I’m still not going to let you walk on your own.”

Hyrule heaved a sigh from beside Twilight as they walked but made no further attempt to push away from the rancher. One of his arms wrapped around Twilight’s shoulder while Twilight supported him with an arm around Hyrule’s back. In spite of his insistence that he was fine, Hyrule had stumbled one too many times. Twilight decided to support him the rest of the way despite the traveler’s protests. Hyrule’s hair brushed Twilight’s jaw and he couldn’t help but glance at Hyrule’s head again to make sure the wound wasn’t bleeding. Dried blood matted strands of Hyrule’s brown hair together, darkening the color even further. Hyrule seemed stable, at least. He’d still break into a coughing fit every once in a while and the head wound threw off his sense of balance, but he was coherent and responsive. Twilight glanced away from Hyrule to Wind who walked a few paces ahead of them, constantly throwing concerned glances back at Hyrule.

“How much further, Sailor?” Twilight asked.

“We’re close,” Wind replied. “I recognize this area. There’s another bend or two then we should be there.”

Twilight nodded, readjusting his grip on Hyrule. The three heroes continued making their way upriver, the dull roar of the water accompanying their footsteps. Hyrule started coughing again and Twilight slowed, but the traveler just waved a hand, smiling at him between hacks.

“It’s… it’s just a tickle-“ A cough interrupted him, “-in my throat. I’m fine.”

A frown tugged at Twilight’s lips but Hyrule pulled him forward, continuing to walk. They moved on in quiet, Twilight watching Hyrule carefully for any sign of struggling. Twilight’s ears twitched, picking up a faint noise in the distance. He focused past the sound of the river, honing in on the interruptions in its repetition. He recognized the punctuated vibrations and syllables of voices after a moment.

“I hear the others,” he said. Wind looked back at him, eyebrows raised.

“You do?” he asked, tilting his head to the side and listening. “I don’t hear anything.”

Twilight continued focusing on the sound, inner ears prickling. A low, rumbling pitch, answered by a thinner one. He couldn’t pick up any words but he could hear the sharp s’s and t’s that carried across the air. “It’s definitely them. We’re nearly there.”

Wind turned away, grumbling quietly. “No fair you get super hearing.”

Twilight and Hyrule both chuckled at that, the traveler breaking into a few short coughs. It didn’t take long before Wind heard the others as well. His face split into a grin and he bounced with each step. He sped up, remembered Twilight and Hyrule couldn’t speed up with him, slowed down, and sped up again on a loop. They followed a bend in the river and the trees gave way to the old bridge. Wind laughed, running ahead and waving his arms.

“Guys!” he called to the three blond heads visible across the river. They all lifted at his voice, revealed to be Time, Warriors, and Four. The latter two knelt by the river, water dripping from Four’s face while the captain paused in scrubbing his hands as they looked up. Time sat nearby facing away from them, head turned to look at Twilight and the others.

“Sailor!” Warriors stood along with Four, shaking water from his hands. A blood-speckled bandage wrapped around his head while Four’s nose appeared a few shades too purple. “Is Traveler…?”

“He’s right here,” Twilight called as he and Hyrule came to stand by Wind at the bridge.

Warriors stiffened. Even from across the river, Twilight could see how his shoulders raised, hand darting to the sword on his back. Twilight whipped his head around, expecting to see a monster of some kind sneaking up behind him and Hyrule. Nothing was there. He blinked, turning back to call out and ask what was wrong. He froze. Warriors, Four, and Time all stared directly at him, watching him with looks he’d seen them direct at monsters. The hair on the back of Twilight’s neck rose as he looked between the three heroes.

“What… what’s wrong?” he asked.

A long moment passed before Warriors spoke, eyes darting between Twilight and Hyrule. “Rancher?” he called carefully.

“Yeah?” Twilight responded, uncertain.

Warriors hand closed around the hilt of his sword and Twilight tensed, eyes wide. He felt Hyrule stiffen beside him, the traveler reaching for his own weapon only to remember it wasn’t there. Wind’s head whipped back and forth as he looked between the two groups, face scrunched in confusion.

Four stepped past Warriors, hand hovering near his sword. “Last week,” he began, and Twilight’s trepidation turned to confusion, “the cook made a dessert with apples but you didn’t get to eat yours. Why?”

Twilight’s mouth opened and closed a few times as he processed that. Four wore one of the most serious expressions Twilight had ever seen on the smith. He almost laughed at the absurdity of that combined with his question and how Warriors stood ready to draw his weapon at a moment’s notice.

“S-smith, what-“

“Answer the question, Rancher,” Warriors cut him off, voice tight.

Twilight’s mouth snapped shut, staring dumbfounded at the three. The longer he took to answer, the tenser they became. “Epona loves apples,” he began slowly. “I looked away for one second and she ate it right off of my plate.”

A second ticked by, then another. The sound of the river hammered Twilight’s ears, punctuated by his heartbeat. Then Warriors sighed, hand dropping from his sword. Time seemed to relax as well but Four remained stiff a moment longer, gaze boring into Twilight. After another beat, Warriors placed a hand on Four’s shoulder.

“Smith,” he began in a low voice, probably not intended for those across the river to hear. “I think it’s okay.”

Four stared for a moment longer before he relented, nodding slowly and relaxing his posture.

“Traveler, are you alright?” Warriors called.

Twilight blinked at the abrupt topic change while Hyrule huffed a laugh. “You… you can’t just-“

“What was that about?” Wind cried before Hyrule could complete his thought.

“It…” Warriors glanced at Four. “It’s a lot to explain. Sorry for the suspicion, Rancher. We can talk once you guys get over here.”

“Traveler, are you okay to cross?” Four asked. “We’d come to you, but…” He cast a glance at Time and Twilight frowned. Was the old man wounded? Was that why he hadn’t moved at all other than looking over his shoulder?

“I’m fine,” Hyrule responded.

“Great!” Wind all but jumped onto the bridge, the old wood groaning in protest. “Because I want an explanation for what just happened!”

Twilight nodded in agreement, fighting back a wince as Wind ran across the bridge, loud creaks accompanying each step. Twilight and Hyrule followed after him, reaching it just as Wind crossed to the other side, immediately rushing toward Four and peppering him with questions. Just before stepping onto the bridge, Hyrule stopped, pulling Twilight to a halt as well.

“Traveler?” Twilight asked softly, eyeing how Hyrule stared at the bridge. “You okay?”

Hyrule took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh that sounded almost exasperated. “I hate bridges.”

Twilight snorted. “Tell me about it.”

“Did you fall off a bridge and nearly drown, too?”

Twilight took a step onto the bridge. “No, but I’ve had several break on me,” he began as he took another step, Hyrule beside him. “Had two separate jousting battles on bridges.” Another step. “One got set on fire while I was on it. Had to jump off into the lake below.”

“Yikes.” Hyrule winced in sympathy as they walked.

Twilight hummed in agreement, nodding. “Two got taken apart by beasts and the pieces were thrown to the other side of Hyrule.”

Hyrule laughed. “What is with your journey and bridges?”

“I’ve asked myself the same thing,” Twilight chuckled. Before he knew it, they crossed the bridge, stepping onto solid ground on the other side. He grinned, looking over at Hyrule. “Hey, we made it!”

Hyrule snorted. “You had doubt?”

“You’re really asking that after everything I just told you?”

“Fair enough.”

“Traveler!” Warriors swiftly stepped in front of Hyrule, examining his head wound. He stood back after a moment with a sigh, gesturing to the ground beside Time. “Sit down, let me take a look.”

“It’s fine, I already healed it,” Hyrule protested, pulling against Twilight as the rancher tried to lead him to sit. “Besides, you’re hurt too.”

Twilight eyed the numerous bandages Warriors sported as the captain moved to Hyrule’s other side and grabbed his arm, firmly guiding him next to Time. “Just a few cuts that the old man already took care of. Sit down and let me take a look at your head.”

Hyrule heaved a sigh but didn’t fight any further, letting the two guide him. Once he was seated, Warriors glanced at Twilight.

“Are you hurt, Rancher?” he asked, eyes darting over Twilight.

“No,” Twilight replied, then gave a crooked grin. “Just muddy.”

Warriors nodded with a half-smirk and Twilight stood back up. He glanced between Time and where Four and Wind stood, the sailor continuing to pelt Four with questions faster than the smith could answer. He wanted to ask about their suspicion of him as well, but first…

“Old man,” he said, moving around Hyrule and Warriors and heading toward Time. “Are you-?”

His words died in his throat. Lying unmoving with his head propped up in Time’s lap, tunic absolutely drenched with blood, was Wild. Twilight gasped sharply, dropping to his knees before Wild’s form, one hand darting to the champion’s head, the other to the tear in his tunic over his chest.

“Champion!” Twilight pressed his hand against Wild’s much too pale forehead, the skin cool beneath his palm. Wild stirred at the touch but didn’t open his eyes, lips parted as he took shallow breaths through his mouth. Brownish tracks of dried blood ran along his collar and the sides of his neck, leading toward bloody mats in his hair.

“He’s alright.”

Twilight’s gaze snapped up to Time as the old man placed a warm hand on his shoulder.

“We used a fairy and she took care of his wounds,” Time explained. “But he lost a lot of blood.”

Twilight’s head spun as he looked back down at Wild. Time’s reassurances battled in his mind with the sight of pale, unconscious Wild whose tunic looked closer to a dark purple than blue with how much blood was soaked into it. Wild shivered every so often, brow pinching.

“What…” Twilight swallowed hard against the lump that formed in his throat. “What happened?”

“We were attacked,” Four said, suddenly beside Twilight. Twilight glanced over to see Warriors, Hyrule, and Wind close by as well, listening to Four. “By a… shadow.”

Twilight’s eyes widened. “Shadow?”

“Not the Shadow, but…” Four lowered himself to the ground, sitting cross-legged between Twilight and the others. He sighed. “I don’t know. I was able to fight him off, but not before he…” His eyes flicked to Wild for a moment.

Not before he almost killed Champion. Twilight finished in his head, wincing at the involuntary thought.

“Did he do that to your face, too?” Wind asked, delicate as always.

To Twilight’s surprise, Four laughed. “No, that was a moblin, actually. It broke my nose but the captain straightened it.” His smile faded as his eyes drifted back to Wild. Twilight found his gaze traveling to the champion as well, fingers absently running through the tangled blond locks. Wild’s breaths came shallow but steady, face still an unhealthy pallor.

“Does what happened with Champion have to do with your suspicion of me?” Twilight asked, not taking his eyes off Wild.

Four shifted as all eyes turned to him. Twilight looked up to see Four’s gaze locked on Wild, lips knotted.

“Yes,” Four said. He chewed on his lip, took a breath. “The shadow, he…” He trailed off and sighed. Then he forced himself to meet Twilight’s gaze. “He disguised as you.”

Twilight’s hand froze in Wild’s hair. The others might have reacted but he didn’t notice, focus tunneling. His eyes widened, heart thudding in his chest. “It…” He couldn’t form one thought, gaze dropping to Wild’s sleeping face. “Did… did you guys know, o-or…”

“We figured it out,” Four quickly said, seeming to understand Twilight’s thought process. “But not right away. We- he knew it wasn’t you by the time the shadow… hurt him.”

Twilight could hardly feel any relief at that. He couldn’t imagine what Wild must’ve felt. What Twilight would feel if he got attacked by something disguising as Time.

“I’m sorry for suspecting you,” Four said, distracting him from his thoughts.

Twilight shook his head. “No, I understand. I’d have done the same if-“

Stirring beneath his hand brought his words to an abrupt halt. Everyone’s heads snapped downward as Wild groaned, slowly bringing a hand to his head. His eyes fluttered and blinked open, squinted as he looked around. His blue eyes landed on Twilight, a haze dimming their brightness. His movements slowed. Then his eyes shot wide open. He gasped, hurling himself to the side and away from Twilight, slamming against Time. Time tried calming the cook, gently grasping his shoulders but Wild wrestled out of his grip. Twilight’s fingers snagged on a knot in Wild’s hair and the champion panicked, thrashing in an attempt to get away. Before Twilight could free his hand, Wild’s flailing connected with his jaw. The force of the blow snapped his head back and he yelped as Wild tore his hair free, lunging away from him and Time.

“Cook! Cook, calm down!” Four yelled, struggling to get Wild’s attention. Wild didn’t seem to hear him, attempting to spring to his feet. His legs failed to support him and he stumbled to one side before collapsing to his hands and knees with a groan. Warriors, Hyrule, and Wind all darted forward at once, eager to help, but Wild only stiffened at their approach, trying and failing to get up and run again.

“Give him space!” Time called, jumping up and grabbing Warriors’ arm, pulling him back. Warriors glanced at him before tugging on Hyrule and Wind, the three of them backing away. Wild continued to gasp, eyes wide and limbs shaking as he struggled to hold himself up and move. Four dropped to a kneel in front of Wild before Time could stop him, trying to get the cook’s attention.

“Cook! Link!”

The use of his real name seemed to finally get through to Wild. He looked up, breathing hard, muscles tensed as much as they could be in his weakened state.

“It’s fine, you’re safe,” Four said in less of a shout than before.

“But-“ Wild began, voice rough, “-th- the shadow-“

“It’s him, Cook, he’s the real rancher. The shadow’s gone.”

Wild stared at Four for a long moment, the smith giving him a reassuring smile as Wild heaved for breath. Wild turned his head, eyeing Twilight warily. “Rancher?”

Twilight did his best to smile. “Hey, cub.”

Wild visibly relaxed as the nickname, head dropping and elbows wobbling. He groaned and crumpled fully to the ground. Twilight and Four both exclaimed in alarm, darting towards Wild.

“’m okay,” Wild mumbled as Twilight carefully turned him onto his back. “Just lightheaded.”

“Any pain?” Twilight asked, gently checking him over for any fresh blood. “Your chest?”

“I’m fine,” Wild responded, weakly batting Twilight’s hands away. “Really. Just dizzy and thirsty.”

“Here.” Twilight glanced around for Wild’s bag and, when he didn’t immediately see it, unhooked his own water skin from his belt and held it out toward Wild. He and Four helped Wild sit up and Twilight held the water skin to Wild’s lips. Wild wrapped a hand around it and tilted it back. He drank slowly at first but was soon gulping it down, drops escaping through the corners of his mouth and trickling along his jaw.

Warriors knelt down before Wild as the champion drained the last of the water skin, lowering it with a gasp. “How’re you doing, Champion?”

“Captain,” Wild said, ignoring Warriors’ question and reaching toward him with his free hand. Warriors took the hand albeit with a bit of confusion. “Thank you.”

Warriors’ face fell into relief and a soft grin. “Don’t thank me. Thank the old man. If he hadn’t found that fairy…”

“And if you two hadn’t kept him alive until I got back,” Time immediately countered, nodding toward Warriors and Four.

Wild laughed lightly, pulling his hand back. “In any case. Thank you.”

Warriors smiled. “Of course.” Four and Time gave murmurs of assent.

“Glad you’re alright, cub,” Twilight said, giving Wild’s shoulder a squeeze.

Wild turned to look at him and his eyes widened. Twilight slowly took his hand away, worried Wild might still be somewhat afraid of him, but then he realized Wild’s gaze was fixed on his jaw. It throbbed slightly where Wild hit it and, judging by the cook’s expression, a bruise was already forming.

“Did…” Wild paused, swallowing thickly. “Did I do that?”

Twilight smiled, trying to appear reassuring. “It’s okay. You were panicking, I don’t blame you given the circumstances.”

“But still, I…” Wild groaned, folding his arms across his knees and lowering his head onto them. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Twilight rested a hand on Wild’s shoulder. “It’s alright, really.”

Wild turned his head, peeking an eye out from under his bangs. He stared at Twilight for a moment, eye roving over his face. He must have found whatever he was searching for because he sighed and lifted his head again, propping his chin on his arms. Four held his water flask out toward Wild. When the cook didn’t immediately take it, Four shoved it in his face pointedly.

“Drink,” Four said, continuing to hold out the flask. “You lost a lot of blood, you need to stay hydrated.”

Wild leaned away from the flask. “I’m not taking any more of your guys’ wate-“

His words were cut short as Four shoved the mouth of the flask to Wild’s lips. Wild made a muffled noise of protest and Twilight couldn’t help but laugh as Four forcibly tilted the flask. A gargling sound left Wild’s throat before he snatched the flask and pulled it out of Four’s hand and away from his mouth.

“Okay, okay, you don’t have to drown me!” he exclaimed. He took a drink from the flask, rolling his eyes at Four’s smug expression. He glanced around at the others as he drank. Then he glanced around a second time and pulled the flask away from his mouth with a frown. “Where are Sky and the vet?”

“They’re still not back?” Wind asked as he looked around. The others glanced around as well, Twilight’s frown growing the longer the silence stretched.

“Who saw them last?” Time eventually asked as it quickly became apparent that no one knew where the two heroes were.

“I was by Vet at the start of the battle,” Wind spoke up. “But there were a bunch of those really fast lizards and we got split up.”

“I saw those,” Twilight realized. “Some went after Sky, I think. But that was right around when Traveler fell in the river so I didn’t see what happened after that.”

“Were there four?” Wild directed the question at Wind. The sailor nodded. “I saw those lizalfos in the woods. Took ‘em out. Didn’t see Sky or the vet, though. And I didn’t notice any… any blood.”

“Maybe they got chased off?” Warriors suggested. “They could’ve gone far to shake off the lizalfos. That would explain why they haven’t made their way back yet.”

“Even so, we should search for them,” said Time, turning toward the tree line. “They could be in trouble.”

“I’ll go,” Warriors said immediately, standing up and pointedly ignoring how his injured leg shook.

“No, you’re still hurt.”

“Nearly all of us are hurt. I can still fight.”

Time and Warriors shot back and forth several more times before Hyrule stood with a sigh. “I’m gonna go find my sword and shield,” he announced before setting off toward the river.

“I’ll come with you!” Wind immediately jumped up, jogging after the traveler.

Twilight watched them go before turning toward Warriors and Time, trying to think of a way to settle their argument. He stopped halfway when a distant sound pricked at his ears. He quickly turned back, peering downriver as his ears twitched. Sharp s’s and t’s. A low creaking noise that could have been a groan. He stood up, narrowing his eyes.

“Rancher?” he heard Wild ask but he ignored the champion in favor of listening to the voices.

“They’re back,” he realized. No sooner had the words left his mouth then two figures appeared around the bend in the river, moving toward the bridge slowly. Too slowly. Twilight took off toward the figures at a jog. “They’re back!”

He heard shuffling from behind him followed by a grunt that sounded like Warriors. Time ordered the captain to sit down before hurrying to catch up to Twilight, the two running to meet Sky and Legend.

Sky raised a hand and waved a bit weakly. Then he stumbled slightly, hand darting down to gingerly press against his side. Twilight’s heart jumped into his throat and he put more speed into his steps. As he drew closer, he saw blood speckling the left side of Sky’s tunic, steps hitching as he walked. Mud absolutely coated Legend, only one arm and the left side of his face clear through the muck. Legend looked up blearily, eyes taking a moment too long to focus on Time and Twilight. Then his gaze slid beyond them and his eyes shot wide open.

“Cook!” he shouted, breaking into an unsteady run. Sky did as well, but he stumbled and nearly toppled over, wrapping an arm around his ribs and hissing.

“I’m good,” Wild called, but that didn’t stop Sky and Legend from hurrying over to him. Twilight reached out to support Legend as he brushed past, but the veteran flapped a hand, staggering to a kneel before Wild.

“Goddesses, Cook,” he said breathlessly. “Did you decide to take a bath in blood?”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Wild replied as Legend checked him over with slightly trembling hands. “Did you decide to take a bath in mud?”

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Legend snapped, pulling back after determining Wild was uninjured.

“What ha… wh… what h-“ Sky broke off into a cough, “-happened?”

“Got stabbed but then I got healed,” Wild said quickly. “I’m fine now. Are you guys okay?”

“Stabbed?” Sky wheezed before coughing again.

“Yeah, but I’m fine. All good. What happened to you?”

“I-“ Sky stumbled and tipped over backwards. Twilight yelped and darted forward but Time was already there, catching Sky and gently lowering him to the ground. Sky gasped in a breath before it abruptly cut off with pain, face twisting and arms wrapping around his middle. A shout of worry alerted Twilight to Hyrule and Wind’s return, silver sword hilt gleaming over Hyrule’s shoulder.

“Let me see,” Warriors said. Sky slowly pulled his arms away and Warriors gingerly prodded around Sky’s ribs. Sky winced, biting his lip to stifle a whine. “I think your ribs are fractured. Does anyone have a potion?”

Twilight pulled out his potion but Sky shook his head, carefully withdrawing a half-empty red potion from his own pouch. Warriors investigated Sky’s lightly bleeding side as the Skyloftian struggled to uncork the bottle.

“What happened?” Warriors asked as he gently rolled up Sky’s tunic to reveal the wound. Angry red patches stretched across his skin, blood seeping sluggishly from deeper portions where the skin had stripped away. A deep frown pulled at Warriors’ mouth, eyes darkening in a way that made Twilight think he must have recognized that kind of wound. The captain said nothing, reaching into his pouch to fish out bandages.

“Hinox from my era,” Legend said. Twilight glanced over to see Legend had laid spread eagle out on the ground, Hyrule kneeling down to check him over. Legend swatted the traveler away. “They like throwing people. And bombs.”

“Did you get thrown, too?” Four asked as he hurried over to Sky to help him uncork the potion.

Legend rocked his head from side to side. “No. Was stuck in a mud pit the whole time. I’m not hurt, just overextended my magic. Stamina potion wore off.”

Twilight perked up at that. “Mud pit?”

“Yeah.” Legend rolled onto his side, peering up at Twilight. His eyes widened as he took in Twilight’s mud-splattered state. “Wait, you too?”

Twilight nodded. “I was trying to follow the sailor but we got separated then I heard-“

“Laughing,” Legend finished.

“I didn’t… didn… hear anything,” Sky remarked breathlessly, sipping at the potion as Warriors bandaged his side. “But you… you did, Rancher?”

“Yeah. I tried to find out where it was coming from but I stepped into the sinkhole and it stopped.”

Legend’s eyes widened even further. “Same here.”

“Nobody else heard it?” Twilight asked, glancing around. The others all shook their heads. Legend and Twilight stared at each other for a moment. Twilight found his gaze drifting to the fading pink in Legend’s hair while Legend’s eyes landed on Twilight’s wolf pelt. They were silent for a moment.

“Weird!” Legend exclaimed.

“Yeah, so strange!” Twilight responded.

“Guess we’ll never know why we’re the only two who could hear it!”

“What a mystery!”

The others all eyed the two of them suspiciously, apparently not convinced by their subtlety. Twilight coughed, turning to Sky.

“Anyway, Sky, are you feeling alright? I have a full potion if you need it.”

“No, I think… I think I’m okay now,” Sky said, carefully twisting his torso from side to side and taking a few deep breaths. His chest didn’t hitch anymore and Warriors had rolled his tunic back down, covering the bandages.

“Okay, just keep an eye on it,” Warriors said. “Let us know if that changes.”

Sky nodded and Legend groaned, flopping onto his back once more. “I’m more than ready to clean up and call it a day.”

“I wish we were in the rancher’s Hyrule,” Hyrule sighed. “I could use a soak in one of those Goron hot springs.”

“My era has hot springs, too,” Wild said.

“Yeah, but your hot springs are way up in the mountains and no sane person would travel through all the snow just for that,” Legend replied.

Wild looked mildly offended. “I go up there for them.”

Legend shot him a look. “Like I said.”

Wild scoffed and rolled his eyes while the others laughed.

“And you definitely could use a bath,” Warriors snickered, moving from Sky to Legend to ruffle the veteran’s hair. “This mud color doesn’t really compliment your flowery hair.”

Legend swatted the captain’s hand away with a scowl. He opened his mouth to respond but stopped short, a glint entering his eye and smirk tugging at his lips. “Maybe not, but you know what I think it would go great with?”

Warriors arched a brow, planting one hand on his hip. “What-“ He cut himself off with a shriek as Legend suddenly sprang up, mud-caked arms outstretched and a devilish grin on his face. Warriors lunged away, or at least attempted to. His injured leg gave out from under him and sent him sprawling to the ground. He twisted onto his back, holding out both hands as Legend loomed over him.

“Wait, wait, wait, you wouldn’t attack a wounded man!” he cried, waving his hands frantically.

Legend’s grin only grew. “I absolutely would.”

Warriors’ eyes widened but before Legend could descend on him, Wind tackled Legend from the side with a cry of, “Don’t worry, Captain, I’ll save you!” Legend lifted a mud-caked hand and dug his fingers into Wind’s hair, smearing it with mud and eliciting a sharp yelp of laughter from the sailor. Legend rolled as if to pin Wind beneath him but his eyes grew unfocused and he overshot, rolling over and off of Wind. Wind took Legend’s dizziness as an opportunity to pounce, uncaring that that only served to smear more mud onto him. But in rolling, Legend had moved closer to where Warriors was just beginning to stand. His arm shot out and snatched the captain’s elbow, yanking him back down with a yelp as he fell into the muddy heap. Twilight was half-surprised to hear a soft chuckle from beside him, glancing over to see Time’s eyes crinkling at the corners as he watched the scene. Twilight felt a grin tugging at his mouth as he looked back at the three, the others all having similar reactions.

“Now we’re really all going to need to wash up,” Twilight remarked.

“Yeah,” Four said. “We should probably stop those three before they get any dirtier.

“Probably.”

Nobody moved to stop them.

[sheila--e]

There's a surprising amount of fanfics where illuso, through some sort of time bending magic or necromancy reasons, gets brought back to life and Giorno's like "yeah lemme pardon him. even tho he tried to kill us and he sucks." just so Sheila has a reason to not feel like he's super righteous and good and confronts him or wtv. Like first of all if illuso came back, Giorno wouldn't fucking pardon him he'd send him over to Sheila so she can actually kill him this time. This man tried to murder them, they considered people traitors for less 😭😭 also if u want a reason for Sheila to feel "let down" and angry at Giorno there's like, a thousand reasons u do not need to make up an ooc scenario for it I promise you....

[sexynetra]

Six(ish) Sentence Sunday

Hi besties I’m in Italy for a choir tour so I have not had much time to write but here’s a snippet from the flight over 💕

~~~~~~

They stared at each other for a moment, and Marcia felt that same charged energy running through her again, almost electric. Anetra broke her gaze first, moving closer until they were practically nose to nose. “Here, I’ll hold it for you, do all the work. Just… breathe in when I tell you. A small breath.” She raised an eyebrow and Marcia gave a nod and a two-fingered salute.

“Got it. Small breath in, hold it, blow it out. How hard can it be? It’s not rocket science,” Marcia chirped out, trying to keep an air of false bravado. She needed to keep up a visage of confidence, fake it until she made it.

Anetra nodded in agreement. “Not rocket science,” she echoed, one hand carefully coming to rest on Marcia’s chin to turn her head slightly before placing the smooth glass against her lips. “Purse your lips over the small hole — yeah, just like that. Perfect. You’re doing great,” her murmured praises continued and Marcia could feel her cheeks burning and something warm and fuzzy settling deep in her chest. She wanted to do well, to get Anetra to keep complimenting her, to keep speaking to her in that soft sacred tone that made her feel like the only other person in the world.

[eloquentsisyphianturmoil]

we write like men we post like boys

[friedricebunny]

fanfic writer kdj is a idea that sometimes bounces around in my head but honestly i'd have no idea where i'd even go with that idea (also tbh i'm not confident enough in my understanding of kdj or anybody's characterization to want to write them)

[theomegapoint]

Title: why are you so frustratingly slow? Pairing: Lee Jihoon/Bang Chan, Lee Jihoon/Bang Chan/Kim Hongjoong Word Count: 3,216 Warnings: Jihoon is a trans male in this fic and does cockwarm Chan with his hole, but there's no PIV sex. It also features degradation kink, sex while on a phone call, and objectification in the sense of human furniture.

Summary: “I’m telling Hongjoong the next time he brings up the fact that the first time you fucked him, you lasted three seconds.”

“Oppa,” Chan says—pleads, really. He doesn’t add the lilt to it that would indicate it’s a femme day and trusts Jihoon to know the difference. “If you tell him that, he’s going to try and suck my soul out through my dick.”

“Good,” Jihoon says. His smile turns almost predatory, and Chan shudders. “Go back to working on your song now, Christopher.”

Created for @kink-things-happen / Square Filled: Objectification

[aceofbasedesires]

wip ask game

tagged by my favorite person, @augentrust! I've never done one of these before!

Rules: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips.

All of my wips currently are for critical role, specifically all shadowgast, and all of them have titles that are numbered based on the order I started the document (though I do have my little nicknames for each)! The ones I am working on most seriously right now are:

CR 5 (sun fic)

CR 8 (astrid fic)

CR 10 (soulmate au)

I don't have anyone in particular to tag, but there is nothing I love more than hearing authors talk about their wips, so if you have one, I invite you to consider yourself tagged!

[ianblogs4]

Hear my random thought, imagine that the PIDW fandom actually start noticing the weirdo called Peerless Cucumber and they find his comments absolutely hilarious, like “this dude is crazy but hes damn funny too” and they just start teasing him with things like “what are you, Luo Binghe’s wife to defend him like this?” until someone actually makes a full 20.000 word fanfiction about peerless cucumber dying and reincarnating in PIDW and ending up rizzing up Luo Binghe, convincing him to leave his harem for him and they marry and live happily ever after and everyone finds this EVEN MORE HILARIOUS and more people start writing fanfic about it.

Before PIDW ends, the ship tag is one of the top 5 of the fandom in ao3 and they have tons of fanart and even an animation video on youtube that has hundreds of thousands of views and obviously airplane had seen it, and he found it hilarious too.

So when he finished PIDW he made some specials and he decided to be the funniest man ever and write one where peerless cucumber died and reincarnated in a male demon whom happened to be working close to Luo Binghe, and that was the first and last gay chapter of PIDW.

The fandom EXPLODED when they read this and the ship tag quickly became number 1 on the fandom in ao3, fanfiction.net, wattpad and tumblr.

Sadly, peerless cucumber stopped his activities on social media as soon as the final chapter of PIDW dropped, wonder what happened to that guy...

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it is currently 3am, no one can judge me for this thanks goodbye

[13eyond13]

Went back to check on these two fandoms' fic stats again today...

On fanfiction.net:

On Ao3:

Insane how much of a flop Platinum End was for O&O compared to Death Note... It's had an anime adaptation too and it's been around for almost a decade now, and look at the difference between the number of fics for these two fandoms on AO3:

(I 100% think it deserves this cold shoulder btw hahaha it really is the worst)

[echoekhi]

I’m Declaring War Against “What If” Videos: Project Copy-Knight

What Are “What If” Videos?

These videos follow a common recipe: A narrator, given a fandom (usually anime ones like My Hero Academia and Naruto), explores an alternative timeline where something is different. Maybe the main character has extra powers, maybe a key plot point goes differently. They then go on and make up a whole new story, detailing the conflicts and romance between characters, much like an ordinary fanfic.

Except, they are fanfics. Actual fanfics, pulled off AO3, FFN and Wattpad, given a different title, with random thumbnail and background images added to them, narrated by computer text-to-speech synthesizers.

They are very easy to make: pick a fanfic, copy all the text into a text-to-speech generator, mix the resulting audio file with some generic art from the fandom as the background, give it a snappy title like “What if Deku had the Power of Ten Rings”, photoshop an attention-grabbing thumbnail, dump it onto YouTube and get thousands of views.

In fact, the process is so straightforward and requires so little effort, it’s pretty clear some of these channels have automated pipelines to pump these out en-masse. They don’t bother with asking the fic authors for permission. Sometimes they don’t even bother with putting the fic’s link in the description or crediting the author. These content-farms then monetise these videos, so they get a cut from YouTube’s ads.

In short, an industry has emerged from the systematic copyright theft of fanfiction, for profit.

Project Copy-Knight

Since the adversaries almost certainly have automated systems set up for this, the only realistic countermeasure is with another automated system. Identifying fanfics manually by listening to the videos and searching them up with tags is just too slow and impractical.

And so, I came up with a simple automated pipeline to identify the original authors of “What If” videos.

It would go download these videos, run speech recognition on it, search the text through a database full of AO3 fics, and identify which work it came from. After manual confirmation, the original authors will be notified that their works have been subject to copyright theft, and instructions provided on how to DMCA-strike the channel out of existence.

I built a prototype over the weekend, and it works surprisingly well:

On a randomly-selected YouTube channel (in this case Infinite Paradox Fanfic), the toolchain was able to identify the origin of half of the content. The raw output, after manual verification, turned out to be extremely accurate. The time taken to identify the source of a video was about 5 minutes, most of those were spent running Whisper, and the actual full-text-search query and Levenshtein analysis was less than 5 seconds.

The other videos probably came from fanfiction websites other than AO3, like fanfiction.net or Wattpad. As I do not have access to archives of those websites, I cannot identify the other ones, but they are almost certainly not original.

Armed with this fantastic proof-of-concept, I’m officially declaring war against “What If” videos. The mission statement of Project Copy-Knight will be the elimination of “What If” videos based on the theft of AO3 content on YouTube.

I Need Your Help

I am acutely aware that I cannot accomplish this on my own. There are many moving parts in this system that simply cannot be completely automated – like the selection of YouTube channels to feed into the toolchain, the manual verification step to prevent false-positives being sent to authors, the reaching-out to authors who have comments disabled, etc, etc.

So, if you are interested in helping to defend fanworks, or just want to have a chat or ask about the technical details of the toolchain, please consider joining my Discord server. I could really use your help.

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See full blog article and acknowledgements here: https://echoekhi.com/2023/11/25/project-copy-knight/