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bumblingbabooshka · 7 months

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My name is [BRUTUS] and my name means [HEAVY] so with a [HEAVY] heart I'll guide this dagger Into the heart of my enemy

Something about having absolutely no choice in who you marry. About being literally forced by the law to spill blood - to accept this stranger as your husband over a man you truly care for or accept the fact that the man you love might die because you put him in danger. Something about risking becoming the wife of a man you've never even seen before a few minutes prior because you know anything would be better than putting your beloved in harm's way. Something about the trust inherent in that decision and in the way she speaks of it after. Truthfully, T'Pring doesn't know the captain and she doesn't know Spock. Either one of them could have taken her as their wife but she does know Stonn. She knows that Stonn will remain by her side no matter what. They made a plan together. They have an agreement which T'Pring believes will be upheld even though the plan changed with the arrival of Kirk. Stonn will always be there, always, and Stonn will be hers. Something about the language used around T'Pring: Ownership, subservience, non-personhood. T'Pring is an object that Spock can win. She cannot reject him, she has no say in the matter other than having Stonn 'claim' her instead. Even when Spock leaves after being very clearly rejected by T'Pring he says "Stonn, she is yours." as if despite her clear rejection he still owns her and is must formally 'give' her to Stonn. But the language T'Pring uses around Stonn is a break from that: "There was Stonn who wanted very much to be my consort, and I wanted him." Stonn who wanted very much to be HER consort and she WANTED him. The language here is very particular - It's not, for example: "Stonn wanted me to be his wife" - he is HERS. And she WANTS him. There's a mutual affection there and a strong trust - a trust which seems to be well founded since Stonn (though silent) stands by her side at the end of the episode. <- That might seem small but if Spock would reject her for 'daring to challenge' (again, the language is not 'because I don't want you' but more of an implied disgust at her having the AUDACITY to reject him) then it's not a stretch to assume that it'd be considered an insult in the TOS Vulcan society to NOT choose Stonn as her champion after a prior agreement. Anyway T'Pring was a woman in an impossible situation within a society which saw her as more of an object than a person and she wanted Stonn and Stonn wanted to be hers and she trusted that he would understand if she had to publicly pick someone else to ensure his life would be spared and he did understand.

#amok time #T'Pring i s....T'Pring she....-puts my head through a wall-#PLEASE read under the cut for my rambling about T'Pring in amok time pleasepleaseplease #tired of 'T'Pring is evil/a bitch' and VERY uninterested in 'T'Pring is a girlboss'#T'Pring is a person in a society which doesn't think she has the right to make her own choices who's in [love] with a man who [loves] her #back in what I'd like to think is implied to be a slightly subversive way in its mutual and fervent nature (whether the writers thought #this was a good or bad thing - who knows. We know better RIGHT??)#and yes I will stylize T'Pring's hair differently every single time I draw it HEHEHE #star trek tos #Spock #T'Pring #also of COURSE something something spock/kirk & stonn/t'pring parallels: To keep your beloved safe you have to force someone else to kill #theirs - not BC you hate him (you don't) but you don't love him either and why does HE get to have you even if you don't want him?? Why doe #he get to 'give' you to the person YOU chose?? It's not a hatred on a person level (which I wanted to portray with the 'brothers') portion #but a sort of societal embodying.#I will think about T'Pring not wanting to be 'the consort of a legend' every damn day !!!#They really could have laid it on thick in making her evil guys...T'Pau even makes a comment about Spock's 'vulcan blood is thin'#but all T'Pring says is that Spock is a legend and she doesn't want that for her life. She wants Stonn.#And you're gonna sit there and you're gonna tell her that she's wrong!??? Spock doesn't even want to be with her!! Why is she so hated!?#CAN WE FREE MY GIRL??? She did all that but it's being read in the worst faith possible!!#comix #bea art tag #star trek art #She literally says the word 'FREE'...she's TRAPPED!!!

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skyward-floored · 9 months

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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 💚💖💚💖💚💖💚💖💚💖💚💖💚💖💚💖💚💖

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