#implied linked universe
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Aren’t you married? (1200 Follower Raffle)
This time first place winner was @my-insanity-is-an-artform
They asked for Warrior in the sense that he didn’t fall into love, more so stumbled into it and didn’t realize it until much later.
Masterlist
Content under the cut!
Link had always considered himself a romantic but after the war he wasn’t sure if romance was in his future any time soon. It was disheartening to say the least but he was willing to let it go if it meant the safety of others (and his own, but he didn’t want to think about it).
When you had first met, it was… a convenience.
You stopped by to check on the soldier during and after the war. You never would have considered yourself a healer or a medic, but you certainly came to heal those wounded from battle. You brought supplies and food and sweets. Sugar was scarce during the war. The boys appreciated your efforts.
You would stop by the medical bay to check in, listen to them, let them talk and vent and rage and you listened. Link watched you flutter around him bed to bed, letting each man take a moment of your time to get something off of his chest no matter what it could have been.
When his turn came, he was speechless.
Literally. Proxi wouldn’t let him get a single word in as she talked to you. He learned much about you then. You talked to the fairy for a long time. You talked about your life and your hobbies, your motivations and dreams. You seem relieved that you could have a more uplifting conversation after all the anger from the soldiers found in the med bay. Link thought it was endearing and listened to you but before he could so much as introduce his own name, it was time for you to go.
Unwilling to let that slip past you, you were determined to get Link to open his mouth and have an actual conversation with you while he was there. You came every week after that.
Sometimes Link would be getting treated like everyone else, other times he was there to support the wounded, not too dissimilar to what you were doing from the start. Just with less sweets.
Whenever he was fine, you stopped to chat with him, Proxi letting him get a word in at last. When he was injured it was another thing. You’d visit him with a disappointed look on your face that Link couldn’t help but shy away from. Proxi would talk over him here too.
Slowly, a good friend and comfortable friendship was born. After the war, he kept in contact with you through letters and the occasional house visit. He’d have to go to your house more often than not because it was hard for you to get into the castle but he didn’t mind. It was an excuse to get out more often than not as well.
You both grew comfortable with each other.
He felt safe with you. He felt as if he could tell you about everything. He saw your humble means of living. Your big heart and your care. You were inherently affectionate. Always hugging him and hanging off of his arms. Patting his head and throwing yourself on top of him. At first he was a little put off by it- but then he saw you do the same to literally anyone you felt remotely comfortable around.
He took it like a badge of honor.
You confided in him. You let him in. You called him out on his bullheaded stubbornness time and time again. You didn’t care about his title or his status. You just cared if he came back. He got bonus points if he came back uninjured.
But then portals started opening up again and the monsters were acting suspicious. He was called to investigate. Effective immediately.
He had to tell you. But he was pressured to leave at once. Link wrote it in a letter and hoped it wouldn’t be too disappointing that he couldn’t tell you in person. He explained everything he could in the letter with the short window he had to gather his things and head out.
He left.
The things he came in contact with were astonishing. The people he met. The things he saw.
He wrote to you as much as he could, not missing a single detail if he could help it.
The others in the group would tease him occasionally. “Who’re you writing to, Captain?” They’d say with wide smiles. “Who’s got you all soft eyed and smiley?”
“Someone special.” He’d say and leave it at that.
Link spent some time thinking about if he should be trying to find you something from this journey. Something special. Or maybe something simple enough that he could send it with his letters. He collected a few things that he thought you would like but there was always something off about them. They just didn’t seem to click in the ways he wanted them too.
Link was further teased over his picky nature in trying to find you a gift but it’s not his fault! He really wanted you to like it. And at the same time he hoped it would soften the blow of not being able to say goodbye to your face. The thought haunts him. Worse yet, he knows that it would haunt you. That’s why he’s so persistent in writing his letters.
You need to know that he’s ok.
There was a moment of peace where the group had found themselves in Link’s hometown. After the obligatory greetings to all of his old neighbors and friends, they make their way to the castle. Link is beside himself with anxiety. He knows that he should report to Zelda first after so much time spent away. It’s not as if he was writing to her after all. She knows next to nothing and would most likely like to meet the others as well.
They make it to the castle and this is where the boys in the group expect Link to break down and meet the person he’s kept secret for all this time. But Link knows better. You wouldn’t be here. You have no reason to be. The castle never gave you an easy time entering despite his assurances to the guards.
Zelda comes in and he salutes her as he should. They speak. He introduces the others and can see some of them with “knowing” smirks and smiles. He’s not entirely sure why they’re so sure it’s Zelda that he’s been worried about meeting.
“Link?”
Everyone turns their head to the sound of the voice.
Warrior perks up in an instant and runs to you. You don’t question it and run to him as well.
The sound of your collision is a solid thunk, nearly knocking the both of you off of your feet. Neither of you care.
Link holds you tightly and cards his fingers through your hair. He’s missed this. He’s missed you something awful. He chuckles a little to himself, ignoring the way his eyes get a little wet. “Hey.”
You’re not so subtle with your tears. You pull back and smack his shoulder. “Jerk! You didn’t even say goodbye!”
He winces. “I know. I’m sorry.”
“You just left me a letter!”
“I know. I didn’t have time-”
“Shut up!” You start crying. “I don’t want to hear it! Why didn’t you send Proxi to yell at me? I understand if you couldn’t come… but… but… You scared me…”
Link reaches out to you again and pulls you close. “I know. I’m sorry. Have you been getting my letters in the meantime?”
You nod and wipe your eyes, dropping your head defeatedly on his chest. “Idiot. I woke up one day and read that you could have been leaving forever. I was three seconds from following you. I stormed into the castle and Queen Zelda herself had to talk me down.”
Link kisses the top of your head, trying to ignore his desire to snort at your poor expense. “I’m sure she finally learned what I have to deal with on a daily basis.”
“Idiot.” You say lovingly.
“I got you something.” He says in a low voice, reaching into his pockets. “A few things actually. I wasn’t sure what you would like the most.”
A soft blush dusts itself across your cheek and you reach into the satchel around your hip. “I.. actually had something for you too. That’s why I came to the castle.” You wipe your tears away with an obnoxious sniffle. “I was going to ask Queen Zelda if I could talk to Lana about sending this to you.”
It’s some baked sweets, another letter and more supplies for his journey. Healing potions. Magic potions. Bandages. It’s what you always gave to the soldier when you visited the medical bay and then some. Familiarity tugs at his heart strings and he holds it close to his chest.
“...Thank you…”
“Are we ever going to be introduced?” Wild calls from the distance, one of the boys of the group. Link can feel himself pale slightly. In his ecstasy of seeing you again, he had completely forgotten they were there.
Link takes your hand protectively, stepping in a way that would hide you behind him somewhat. “No. As you were.”
Some of them laugh and Time, the oldest, steps forward. “Would it be so wrong to want to meet your beloved?”
Something in Link’s mind clicks. He’s tempted to let go of your hand but you’re still holding onto him. “....No?... They’re not… we’re not…”
You look up at him. “Are we? I thought so…”
Link pales further. “Wait. Hold on. What? Did you?”
The youngest of the group tilts his head in confusion. “I thought you were married?”
Link shakes his head. “No. I’m not married. What gave you that idea? I’ve been single this entire time…” He looks back at you and then back to the group to amend his statement. “I thought I was single this entire time.”
“Oh by Hylia, the Captain is an idiot!” Legend, his typical ranger, starts laughing so hard he nearly doubles over onto the floor. “I mean this isn’t exactly new information.”
“Shut up.” Link growls, holding your hand a little tighter. He turns around, putting his hands on your shoulders. “Did you seriously think we were together this entire time? I don’t recall that conversation whatsoever.”
You nod, growing sheepish. “Yes. I told you I liked you. You said you like me too. I thought that was that.”
Link stares at you for a moment longer, ignoring the way the group taunt him for his lack of perception. “Seriously?”
“Yup…” You bite your lip, blushing brightly. “Um… I’m sorry. I guess it’s my fault. I assumed and well-”
“Works for me.” Link kisses you, cutting you off before the words could even process in his mind. He cups your jaw and tilts your head to give him the perfect angle. The group behind him seem to only shout louder as they witness this glorious train wreck in front of them. Link doesn’t care in the slightest that he’s caused this kind of commotion.
You’re taken by surprise and are left wide eyed and struck dumb when he pulls away. Link swallows harshly, running his thumbs over your cheeks. “I’ll do better by you… I promise.”
You nod, robotically.
Link… realizes that was incredibly impulsive and slowly feels a wave of shame build up within him. He pulls you in close again to kiss your forehead before he can second guess it.
He had no idea where that came from or where he gathered the drive to do so. However, he knows that it felt right and perfect and that it was long overdue.
Link smiles at you, feeling the need to kiss you again. He drops his hand to your shoulders again and holds you gently. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here, since we’re not done, but we’ll be able to talk in the meantime, ok?”
You gulp and nod again. You bite your lip again as your blush darkens. “Perfect.”
#legend of zelda#link x reader#implied lu warrior#Hyrule Warriors#implied linked universe#linked universe#linkeduniverse#linked universe x reader#lu x reader#lu warrior#it's *barely* mentioned
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So i was rereading some of the older LU stuff, as one does, and i am OBSESSED with these panels, which happen back to back
THE IMPLICATION THAT SHE JUST??? THREW WARS OUT OF THE WAY??? IT KILLED ME, I BURST OUT LAUGHING.
LIKE WHERE DID HE GO, HE WAS STANDING RIGHT THERE IN THE FIRST PIC, AND HES JUST GONE IN THE SECOND. BRO DISAPPEARED.
SHE REALLY SAID “GET OUTTA HERE”
(my headcanon is he’s just laying in a heap on the floor because she knocked him down)
art credit to @linkeduniverse !!
#malon i love you#the way it implies she like shoved him down or something made me CACKLE#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu warriors#lu wars#lu twilight#lu malon#jes talks
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For those who don't have Twilight Princess but would like to know:
The move Twilight performed while fighting Dink is called the helm splitter. It's one of the Hidden Skills that the Hero's Shade, aka Time (but as a skeleton oof) taught him
This move is often an instant kill. It is harder against Lizalfos, so the goal is to quickly turn around and deliver a slash. He lands with his back to the enemy- which made Dink grab him from behind (and bit Twi's arm ouch). But it's one of the most powerful moves Shade taught him- he practically ripped out Dink's shoulder.
One of the art screenshots is not Lu, but art Jojo did of shade teaching him to do it. (Can confirm it was terrifying- bro stopped the blade an inch from Twi's head- after telling him it's called the helm splitter)
#love that Twi's using the skills Time taught him#also doing this move in game feels really badass tbh#run away dink#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu#lu twilight#hero's shade#Lu time#lu dink#twilight princess#I know that many have already pointed this out and or already know#I wanted to include videos and stuff but never want to imply I know things that others don't#and if you have the links (heh. pun) to posts where others pointed out similar or the same stuff I want to see them!!! because!!#literally everyone's thoughts are so cool and valuable? I love you guys never stop creating#and if I ever say or imply anything offensive let me know because I want to learn always#:)
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day five: bunny or transformation || soulmate
page 1 | page 2 | page 3 | page 4 | page 5 [you're here!] | page 6
#legend of zelda#linked universe#lu legend#lu ravio#ravioli ship#raviolink#ravioli#raviolishipweek#soulmate is...#implied?#hopefully?#by this comic lol#it's the only prompt that i couldn't really get worked in#this page was a mindfuck to draw#im very happy with it tho
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#linked universe#lu hilda#lu ravio#implied raviolink#ravioli#but not really#I don’t ship them but they would be married for the money#when legend tells rav he wants to propose to fable rav acts all like LINK HOW COULD YOU#in the end they laugh tho and rav is the best man at the wedding lol#I love them#theyre brothers your honor#how to draw Hilda in ONE artstyle
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@skyward-floored remember that anon asking about a birthday fic yesterday? That was me :D
I wrote you a little something to celebrate your special day! I hope you like it!
Happy Birthday!! 🎈🎉
Ao3 link
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Normally, Warriors would leave a guy to think. After all, he knows better than anyone the way working in a group can become a bit…suffocating. Being constantly surrounded by people will grow inevitably exhausting. It’s only right for one to go off on their own, seeking out some blessed solitude.
So, normally, if he had come across a certain hero sitting beside a quaint little stream, he would leave him to his duck watching and his thoughts and collapse onto his bedroll. But he has just come upon a certain hero sitting by a quaint little stream and he looks so absolutely pitiful that Warriors swears that he’s impersonating a kicked puppy.
And he can’t just leave him there, all sad and hunched over and shivery.
(Time and Arty are right, he guesses, he’s a hopeless softy.)
So, he sets aside his dreams of turning in early and starts toward him.
“Rupee for your thoughts, rancher?” He calls once he is within hearing distance.
Twilight startles and turns, blinking rapidly as though that will free him from his daze. Warriors keeps an easy grin on his face as his eyes roam the hero, cataloging what he sees.
Flushed cheeks, a light sheen of sweat on the brow, tremors running through the body, a glazed look in the eyes…and now a painfully hoarse voice as the rancher croaks his name in greeting. The captain suppresses a sigh. There can’t be any doubt about it, the rancher is sick.
He should’ve seen that coming — honestly, he had, though he’d shoved the suspicion back behind countless other strategies and worries and tasks. But he knows he isn’t the only one who picked up on Twilight’s less than perky attitude these past days. He had lagged behind the rest of the group, opting to plod along beside Sky instead of his usual place by Wild’s side. And that alone had arisen Warriors’ suspicions.
But he doesn’t comment about all that just yet. Even when Twilight turns away from him to cough harshly into his elbow. Wordlessly, he settles down beside him.
“You alright, Twi?”
He sets a steadying hand on his back as the coughs subside. Twilight takes a minute to catch his breath, his shudders growing more violent. But the glare he dredges up is no less severe than his usual.
“I’m not sick if-if that’s what you’re thinking.”
Warriors chuckles. “Well, now I’m thinking maybe you are. Because I alluded to no such thing.”
Twilight hums, looking completely unconvinced. Warriors doesn’t miss the way he leans into his touch, however, or the way his next exhale trembles. And he certainly can’t ignore it when, surreptitiously, he moves closer.
“I should’ve brought a blanket,” Warriors comments, mildly, when a few quiet moments have slid by. “You seem a bit cold. Too bad I left my scarf back at the camp.”
Twilight huffs a sigh. It quickly turns into another explosion of coughs.
“You should be back at the camp,” he grumbles, when he can once again drag in air, “not hanging around me. You’re gonna catch somethin’.”
A smirk lifts Warriors’ lips. “Ah, but I could’ve sworn that I just heard you claim that you weren’t sick.”
He senses more than sees Twilight’s eyes go wide. Then, the rancher lets out an annoyed groan.
“I swear y-you’re as bad as the old man.”
“Oh no, I can be worse.”
Another series of shiver races through him and Twilight ends up slumped against Warriors’ left side, teeth chattering audibly.
“S-somehow…I can believe that.”
Warriors chuckles. Carefully, he slides an arm around Twilight, holding him close. The hero practically melts into him.
“It’s a beautiful night at least,” the captain murmurs, gazing up above them.
The sky glows with the beginnings of twilight. Orange and purple and pink travel in streaks of dazzling fire across a canvas of deep blue. Upon the water, the display wavers, like paints just barely mixed upon a palette.
The air is temperate too, a warm breeze blowing through like a caress. He can’t help but be thankful for it. He’s almost certain that they all have had to endure sickness in a less than forgiving climate. In such circumstances, things seldom go well.
(He can’t help but think of Mask’s tale, told haltingly late at night after a dreadful nightmare. A tale of climbing a mountain with frostbitten feet and fingers and collapsing shivering and feverish at the door of a blacksmith’s hut.)
“Captain,” Twilight pipes up beside him, the word sounding positively painful, “do…do you ever feel a certain sadness at this time of day?”
Warriors hums, dragging himself from his thoughts. Something about that sentence sparks a memory within him, of a princess of twilight with the body of an imp and a heart of gold kept carefully concealed.
“I suppose so. Why?”
Twilight is smiling slightly when he looks at him, and there is sorrow in the expression.
“There’s another realm out there…”
“The Twilight realm.”
Twilight starts up, feverish gaze landing on Warriors. The captain laughs.
“Yes, I know of it. I knew it’s princess, as a matter of fact. We fought together during the war.”
Suddenly, Twilight looks more alert than he has all night. But then he shudders again and nearly loses his balance. Warriors pulls him close again, wrapping him in a half-hug.
“Midna? Y-you knew Midna?”
“I did.” The captain smiles, fondly. “She was a ferocious fighter…and a good friend. Though” — A teasing grin lifts his lips as he looks down at his brother “ — I always wondered why she chose to ride a wolf of all things into battle.
“But it makes a little more sense now.”
Even through his pallor, he can see Twilight’s cheeks flush. His face is a hurricane of emotion that Warriors feels he has little right to see. So, he turns back to the pond and watches as twilight overtakes the light of day.
“Did-did she mention me at all?” Twilight murmurs, finally.
Warriors cocks his head, weighing which words are best.
“No — not to me at least. But I think Midna was one who liked to keep things close to the vest. I think the wolf she rode was her way of…saying that she missed you.”
Twilight is silent for a few moments. Quiet reigns over the small clearing, save for the sounds of the rancher’s slightly congested breathing.
He should get him back to camp, Warriors thinks, get him some warm blankets and a potion and maybe some of Wild’s soup. But Twilight speaks up before he can voice any of those thoughts.
“I’m glad you got to meet her.” There is a tremulous smile in those words, a strength that the rancher always possesses, even when his energy is drained. “She…she was really somethin’ else.”
“Indeed she was.”
Twilight moves closer, resting his head on Warriors’ shoulder, and Warriors can’t help but feel that some unseen boundary has been broken from between them. Perhaps, this secret had weighed more heavily on the rancher than he had thought.
Well, that and the uncertainty of the princess’ feelings for him. That shattered mirror Twilight had spoken of hadn’t been the only thing broken.
“You know,” he says, as Twilight’s eyelids begin to droop, “next time you’re sick and missing your girlfriend, maybe just talk to someone instead of sitting out here all miserable and alone. I know a certain someone would call you an idiot for doing so.”
Twilight chuckles.
“She would, wouldn’t she?” He chokes out between hacking coughs. “She never held back.”
“No, she really didn’t.”
Warriors holds his trembling shoulders until the coughs are gone again. Then, he pats his shoulder.
“Alright, rancher, let’s get you back. You need your rest.”
Reluctantly, Twilight allows the captain to help him to his feet. He leans heavily against him, exhaustion dragging at his feet. And as the first star blinks itself awake, Warriors turns them toward the warmth of the campfire and their brothers’ company.
The shadows themselves seem to gather in their wake, a protection and an embrace.
#idk when your actual birthday is#but I know it must be close since December’s nearly over#so I thought I’d just publish this now#trin writes#ficlet#linked universe#linked universe fic#lu twilight#lu warriors#sick fic#hurt/comfort#light angst#fluff#midlink#mostly just implied but still
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Hey Stars! I adore your writing❤️
For a prompt how about Time and Warriors, reunion/trust? I can’t stop thinking about Wars realizing that the Little Link he fought the war with grew up to be Time,,, I feel like it’s bittersweet for both of them 🥲❤️
Aww, thank you! I'm so glad that you've been enjoying my little fics!
I'm going to apologize right away that this got real angsty/whumpy in the first part. (It made me sad enough that it took me two days to write XD ). I promise it gets better though! There's implied major injuries that aren't described in detail, and some descriptions of blood. But he gets better!
When thinking about Time being a part of the WoE, I've had this idea of Warriors wanting to make Sprite (the name I use for Time in the WoE in this) proud, and Sprite wanting to grow up to be like Warriors. But neither of them realize this at the time.
(If you read this and would like to request a short snippet, see this post!)
Time patted Warriors’ cheek, trying to get his attention and keep him awake. His breathing was all too shallow and broken up by the occasional cough, which left blood dribbling from the corner of his lips. Warriors’ head lolled to the side, but Time put his other hand on Warriors’ cheek to hold him steady.
“Captain, you need to stay awake. Just a little longer, okay? The others are on their way.”
Warriors mumbled something, but Time couldn’t make out what he was trying to say. Time swallowed, tamping down the urge to look behind him. Instead, he kept his focus on Warriors, who now had tears welling up in the corners of his eyes.
“Do.. do you…”
“Hush, save your strength.”
Warriors head tipped back, and he looked up to the sky. Time wasn’t sure what exactly he was seeing. The tears dripping down his face mixed with the blood coming from the corner of his lips. Time wished he could wipe it away, make the pain go away.
“...think… I… made him proud?”
“Captain.” Time brushed the hair away from Warriors’ forehead. His eyes fluttered. “You’ve done amazing things, you’ve done so much good. Anyone would be proud.”
Warriors lips tipped up in a crooked smile, but he coughed on his next breath.
“That’s all I… wanted. He left before… I could never…” Warriors struggled to get the words out between wheezing breaths.
Time glanced over his shoulder. He could no longer hear the sounds of the battle. The others should come looking any moment now.
“Who?”
But Warriors eyes had fallen shut. Time tapped on his cheek, and Warriors eyelids fluttered again.
“Link, come on. Stay awake. Help is coming.” The promise felt hollow, even if he knew the others would be looking for them.
“S…s…prite.”
Time froze. He hadn’t heard that name in years. Decades, even. Warriors went limp, and Time barely managed to stop him from falling over. He cursed, and wrapped his arms around Warriors shoulders and underneath his knees. It was dangerous to move him, but at this point, he couldn’t wait for the others to find them.
Time hurried in the direction he’d last heard the others in. It was only a minute or so later when he heard a shout and then the sound of the others coming towards them. Sky was already opening a bottle with a fairy by the time Time kneeled and set Warriors back on the ground.
The fairy circled around Warriors, and immediately color returned to his face and his breathing evened out. He remained unconscious, but that was to be expected. Even magical healing took a lot of energy, so he would likely sleep for a while.
___
They decided to camp out for a few days. Everyone could use the rest, especially Warriors, after the last battle. Time waited a while before catching Warriors alone.
“Captain?”
Warriors looked up from where he was fixing a tear in one of his tunics. He gestured to the space beside him, and Time sat down.
Time had debated on how to start this conversation, but in the end, he decided to just go for it. “Do you remember what happened after you were injured?”
Warriors paused his work, and then set it aside with a sigh. “Not much.”
“You mentioned a… Sprite?”
Warriors’ face fell, and he tapped on his thigh. Time thought he recognized the pattern as one of the few songs the captain knew on the ocarina back in the war.
He finally glanced over at Time, barely meeting his eyes. “He was another hero I fought alongside in the war. He was my little brother, and way too young to be there. I… He was sent home before I could say goodbye.”
Time’s heart clenched. It had been so long since he’d stepped back through the portal after the War of Eras. When Lana had told him there was no time to say goodbye. Warriors — Link, at that time — had been recovering in the medic’s tent, slipping in and out of consciousness after suffering injuries in his final battle with Ganon.
Time had never gotten to say goodbye either.
He blinked slowly, then reached for his bag. He wasn’t sure if Warriors would believe him if he just told him the truth. But he had enough proof in his bag.
“Link, I’m sorry I never told you this before.” He grabbed the first mask from his bag. “I thought… well, I don’t really know what I was thinking.” He passed the keaton mask over to Warriors.
Warriors held it gingerly. Time couldn’t read the expression on his face.
“When I was sent home, only minutes had passed in my original time. For the longest time, I told myself it was a dream. I didn’t believe it, not really. But it was easier that way.”
Next, he pulled out the Ocarina of Time. The actual relic, though it no longer held the blessing of the Goddess of Time.
“I… I know I was a brat. I know I caused trouble. But I need you to know that you are a huge part of who I am today. I was too old for the body I was in, but even still, I knew that when I grew up, I wanted to be just like you. You were my hero, Link. You still are.”
When Warriors looked up, there were tears streaming down his face. For a moment, Time thought he’d done something wrong, but then Warriors set the mask and ocarina down as carefully as he’d held them and leaned over to wrap his arms around Time. Time pulled him closer until Warriors nearly fell over, and they both laughed, but neither moved to pull away.
“You grew up to be a far better man than I’ve ever been, Sprite.”
“Don’t talk like that, Link. I’m so, so proud of you.”
#worm writes#linked universe#lu fanfic#lu warriors#lu time#time did the war of eras#hyrule warriors#bit of#blood#implied#major injuries#no mcd!
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Vermeil Adoration
Fierce Deity x Implied Deity Reader (can be Linked Universe or not) Drabble
Me, working on Act IIII and Act V of the LU Fairy Tale Collection: Alright so if we do this with slightly more sleep on us and figure a few things out for First I think it should be good to go-
Also Me: *remembers that because of the nature of the Fairy Tale Collection FD will be missing, is immediately assaulted with an idea, sighs, opening up a new WIP* You know what I'll come back to that, I can't not write for him if he's going to be left out.
For the FD Simps/lovers plus myself as I work on the Fairytale Collection, want to post two chapters at once and also crosspost on Ao3 plus life's been busy, apologies for the delay.
You were created from the breath of life itself.
You are the divinity found in the howling of winds cutting through the woods, the snarling of lightning down to the earth, attempting to touch something it may not have and scorch it so deeply new growth would flourish in a maddened frenzy, the sunlight kissing the ice tenderly though it may never do more than bring the crystalizing to shine, tears dripping knowingly from it's cold gaze as the water turns to rain, watering the land in it's unknowable grief in the closest way it could ever touch the sun in the sky. The joyful sound of wolves singing the moon's beauty with their howls, the birds merrily carrying the melody ever onwards so the sun may also partake of it, gleeful frolicking of fawns and foals discovering the world that the Golden Three left in their wake, the symphony of every animal and nature itself at it's finest.
You look at life itself and find divinity in everything.
So by the nature Farore so lovingly made sure you'd have, one would think you and the one hylians, hyruleans and beasts had dubbed 'The Fierce Deity' would never be able to coexist.
You've heard the one's watched over by your sister in divinity, ever watchful time herself with her diamond wings and gaze who pierced to the end of eternity itself with Nayru's patience whisper in primal terror and avarice drenched loathing about him to the trees in every corner of the land, heard beasts under the watch of death and rot himself curse his name to the winds and rain with as much ferocity and fury induced fear as the restless whispers of those denied existence, your brother in eternity with his shell of obsidian and the flames of Din's desire of consumption ever burning in his gaze daring not cross where the ivory and jade forged spirit passed. And of the horror and wonderment of your wild beings as they've hissed and howled and growled and screeched to the flowers and stones of nature.
A man like the hunt itself, divine without the vermeil breath of the primordial ones. The unrelenting slash of the blizzard gales in winter against any unfortunate to stand in their way, leaving the cold emptiness and silence behind, stealing the air from the lungs of living beings like the ocean for those unfortunate enough to fall with no sign of land. An ivory specter of death whom seemingly clawed himself from the void, an harbinger for the End with seemingly no rhyme or reason for those who he set his sights into, either to devour their divinity for himself or favor or bless.
A being like that should have been anathema to all you are and stand for. Or at least it's what anyone, including your divine sister and brother would reason.
Which is why you couldn't help but find it slightly comedic that the so called 'awful beast', capable of enacting such violence to consume divinity on a whim if tested. Was so very careful with you, head laid upon your lap in a rare moment of rest as you carefully weaved flowers into a crown.
You were curious, awfully so, like the foxes who roamed your woods in search of amusement and play, you just couldn't help yourself. You knew he was coming, how could you not, when the primal fear of living things echoed in the back of your mind, warning you as it warned animals of a bigger predator in the food chain? But you didn't run. Not in the face of narrowed, calculating pale eyes and alabaster hair and the scent of iron in the air, thick and old you couldn't mistake it for anything but blood and the marrow deep certainty of a lonsdaleite persistence.
Maybe you should of, in hindsight.
Instead you just blinked with evergreen curiosity, fascination bleeding from your lips before you could even think of stopping yourself, head tilted.
"My. Rumors are certainly exaggerated, you're beautiful."
The memory of his bewildered, flustered caution makes you smile a bit, as everything in between flowed naturally like spring petals on a breeze. You feel an armored hand on your cheek, so, so soft and careful, as if you were as fragile as a flower, and a calm, relaxed rumble of tourmaline lazy curiosity and aquamarine fondness, "Anything on your mind, my breath?"
You couldn't help your chuckle, emerald fondness running around the mosaic of your divinity as you gently run your hand through starlit hair, nuzzling the hand on your cheek and hoping to convey even half the warmth he gave you, "Reminiscing, worry not. Rest a bit more before you must go." You hear him sigh as you place the flower crown on his head, as pale as his hair, but as delicate as your sister in divinity's wings, threaded pthalo like the flame of his existence.
"... Must I? I was late this time, it's only proper I redeem myself for making you wait." He questions, reluctant and guilty in equal measure, fondness blooms over your lungs as you poke his nose, smiling bright, if dim as you answer him, "I'd dare not attempt to deny you your nature, I do not know what you hunt, what you're searching for. But it would be cruel to chain you."
The man many had dubbed 'Fierce Deity' nuzzles into your hand, nestling in close like a wolf over catch, you catch the hints of a frown on his face, "It's hardly chaining when I wish to stay, is it?"
Your breath almost is trapped in your lungs, but you shake yourself out of it, chuckling as you brush your lips over his markings, crimson affection as the carmine and lapis lazuli of his Hunt. The cheek of this man, for that's what you all are in the end, divinity or not, "Maybe not, though for all you rest here with me you still itch to run and hunt. Do you not, my dear warrior?"
The silence is only broken by the whispers of the leaves of the woods carried by the wind and the curious chirping of birds, his unwavering moonlit gaze giving away nothing. And it tells you enough.
You smile, brushing your noses together, spring breeze playful and sun warm, "If you're that worried, then just come back earlier, if you can. I'll have something new for you to look at, and I'll always wait. We have time."
In a flash, you find your positions reversed, your back and hair to the flowers and your wonderful, ever mischievous hunter above you, you yelp and you can't help but laugh before the sound is stolen by his lips. And he cradles your cheeky gently, so very kindly, and when he leans back he looks at you as if you're the first glimpse of water for a man in the desert, or the way a wolf longingly looks at the moon, and it cracks the phosphophylite of your soul and fills it with the gilded gold of emerald love, "... Thank you. I will not keep you waiting long again. I shall remain for now, though. The call can wait."
I love you. I want to stay with you.
"I know." Your hands gently thread through his hair, gleeful as you notice the rare curve of a smile as his cap lays abandoned in the glass, but your flower crown remains, "Be safe, when you do go. I'd be lovely if something happened."
I love you too.
He shakes his head, giving you an unimpressed look, "I cannot be harmed in any way that matters."
You fondly roll your eyes, pressing your index and middle finger to your lips, then touching it lightly against his own, he all but freezes. You refuse to allow him to distract you with admittedly charming affection, and you take the opportunity to tug him into your arms, shifting your positions so you can utilize him as a pillow, safer than you ever felt in your many eons of existence, more comfortable than the stars painting the canvas of the sky with their dance, "Promise me you'll be safe, and you can claim what's yours once you're back. For now I tire of your stubbornness."
You feel his chest rumble, maybe a laugh, maybe a purr or a growl, but he holds you close, steady and lovelier than even the world the goddesses created. "As you wish, my dearest blossom."
You both fall asleep to the songs of nature, you know he'll hunt again, you know he'll be gone soon like late night mist. But for now, a promise for an eternity of this, like how the mortals speak of, is enough.
#linked universe x reader#kinda?#Fierce Deity x Reader#FD x Reader#Deity Reader#or at least highly implied#for myself as a bit of a mental break so I can work on the Fairy Tale Collection properly lol#so apologies to anyone who finds it if it's not all that good or to your taste#contains gratuitous amounts of headcanons I have for FD on those sleepless hours#and a small apology for the FD enjoyers who won't find him in the Fairy Tale Collection#next story maybe
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Febuwhump Day 19 - "Please Don't"
@1caru @sweetlemonad I believe you asked me to make Four suffer?
Rating: Teen(?)
Wordcount: 4,600
Summary: Four has been acting strange as of late, and it's making Warriors worry. Worry becomes anxiety as he watches the smithy, and it's quickly apparent that while the others don't see it, something is Wrong with Four, something very, very bad. Maybe too terrible to be fixed.
(WARNING!!!!!!! This fic does not have a happy ending! There's room for interpretation, but it does technically qualify as lead character death and a bad ending, so read with caution!
-
Four is weird about magic.
They all have some hang ups of course, Twilight especially, which is odd considering the recent reveal of his own magic usage, but everyone has something they’re wary of. Legend doesn’t like the unknown as a rule, but if he’s allowed to learn about it, he’s less likely to avoid and more likely to just be cautious. Time grew up with magic, but he’s wary about anything that exudes large amounts of power, as the side effects are often weighty for the price of using it. Sky is still becoming accustomed to everyday magic use, whereas it’s part of Hyrule’s life, while still being something that’s a threat for the traveler. Wild thinks it’s cool, but mostly since it’s almost gone entirely by his time without great amounts of effort. Wind, like Legend, is wary of the unknown, but in the end, he’s just as curious as Wild is.
As for himself, Warriors grew up without much more than old stories to tell him about magic, stories he’d pass to his little sisters later in life, still not aware of how prevalent the forces that he spoke of truly were in his world. The war had plunged him headfirst into a world of magic usage and its users, and like with swimming, he’d been forced to acclimate quickly lest he be pulled under and die. Now, he’d dare to say he’s the person least likely to react to sudden magic usage, provided it wasn’t too very bizarre. Shapeshifting is an outlier, since there’s no way to get accustomed to suddenly different forms, or any way to expect it, but still, blasts of magic or power from weapons? They’d gone off all the time from the fighters gathered across time, during the war. He’s used to strange new magics appearing out of nowhere.
Four is odd about them though. Four is wary of anything he doesn’t understand, but unlike Legend who will poke at it, shields raised, Four will keep away at all costs. As far as the smithy seems concerned, magic and he can keep their distance, and while, unlike Twilight, he doesn’t object to others using it, he firmly rejects offers extended to him to let him try things as well. The Master Sword is their key example of such behavior, but there are others too; Legend’s items, Twilight’s crystal, and generally most magical weapons that are not their shortest’s own.
So, seeing Four watching, listening so intently as they sit down and demand answers from their rancher, it’s strange.
They’d all been a bit affronted at the secret of their wolf companion and the rancher being the same, but now that they have the opportunity to learn what, precisely, was the reason for it, how it happened at all, they’re all eager to have answers. By nature, it seems the hero’s spirit carries with it a sense of curiosity that can’t be dimmed no matter how many generations it has passed through. It’s less proficient at teaching, but that’s become a null point as Legend carefully handles the thing, asking questions rather than letting them all rely on Twilight’s abysmal attempts at explaining how the thing works or how he’d come to have it.
He’s not sure how Legend hasn’t transformed, since, according to Twilight, it should change whomever handles it. Still, the vet seems to be taking advantage of his apparent invulnerability to examine the magical item and do whatever a magical collector and scholar like himself does with such sorts of new things.
Four paying rapt attention though, eyes following the vet’s hands as Twilight explains that it is, essentially, shadow magic condensed, formed from a curse placed on him that a powerful magic user had lifted for him.
“How does shadow magic not screw you over?” The vet is dangling the necklace before his eyes, making them cross as his ears pin back, a harsh scowl fixed on the crystal.
Twilight shrugs, also watching the vet, but relaxed, mostly, as though he doesn’t fear what happens if the magic activates, but still would rather it not. Warriors wonders what would happen if it did. “It’s pure magic. Dark only in nature, but all ill intent was- wiped away I guess? She didn’t explain fully, what with us still dealin’ with the world nearly endin’ an’ all.”
The vet flicks at the crystal with one finger, making it spin slowly, glinting oddly in the fading light of the sun, contrasted by the low burning flames of their campfire. “Pure dark magic...” he muses. “Not evil...just...hnnn....”
“Ever seen something similar?” Wind asks, slumped across the rock the vet and rancher sit on, arms cushioning his head as he looks up at the two, blinking slowly like he’s maybe beginning to tire out after their long day.
“Nope.” Twilight sighs.
The vet tips his head on one side, nose shivering in a thought that’s not shared. “Maybe?”
Four hasn’t blinked since the idea of pure shadow magic was presented, and there’s a glitter in his violet eyes that makes the captain uncomfortable. He’s not sure what it is, Four’s a good kid and rarely is any trouble, but something about that look in his eyes.... it’s worrisome.
“Have you interacted with dark magic outside of Ganon‘s before?” Hyrule asks, staring at the vet as the other stops the crystal’s spin with one gloved hand. “I mean, at all?”
“Some,” the vet says, and then hands Twilight his necklace back, although his eyes linger even as the rancher holds it carefully by its chord. A twitch of the ears and then the younger adds, “a lot actually. There are so many dark mages and whatnot that I’ve met personally, and that's just in my world.”
“Your world?”
“I’ve been to others, and yeah, one of them actually had dark magic as the norm. Light magic was...” his ears swivel back, “people weren’t keen on meeting light magic users. Still, they weren’t awful, just different.” Violet eyes a shade softer than Four’s lift to catch the rancher’s midnight blue. “Your magic user friend, was she from a place where that was the norm?”
Twilight nods, tucking his charm back where he apparently keeps it, between his layers and around his neck. “Yeah. Not sure if hers was a ‘nother world or just...dimension?”
The vet nods.
“Whatever it was, her magic was what everyone had there, and folks good or bad could use it.”
“So,” Four finally speaks, and there’s something, Warrior can’t name what, but maybe it’s the intensity of those dark eyes on the magic master and the rancher, “dark magic isn’t inherently evil, just... different? Is that what you’re saying?”
The two exchange a glance, and by the prick back of the rancher’s ears, head lower but gaze staying locked with softer violet, he supposes the rancher cedes the right to answer to the scholar rather than speak himself. Legend accepts it easily though, titling his head on one side and fiddling with the bracelet on his wrist, not meeting Four’s eyes, perhaps because he’s thinking too hard, or maybe some other reason. “Here in Hyrule, as a rule, dark magic is just power clouded with impure intent and harmful nature. Anyone can wield it, anyone magically skilled that is, but it’s purity is determined by the purity of your actions.”
“And you know this because...?”
A flinch. “If one of us- those who wield magic- used our abilities with impure intent, it would take on a darker quality. If your goals start becoming selfish, or your wishes more violent, or even if vengeance or pride colors your actions instead of something else, your magic can alter to become more shadow like.”
His focus on Four drops at those words, mind flicking back. Pride, Legend said, could color your magic to darkness. “Is that why our shadows end up as they are? They’re a manifestation of impure intentions coloring our magic?”
A nod. “I think. Granted, they can also be fueled by other magic, if they gain enough sentience to be their own self. Then they can just draw on whatever magic is around them for strength, but they usually form as a result of selfishness and the like,” the vet’s shoulders hunch slightly, stiff with a thought that’s likely guilt if his experiences are at all like the captain’s. “That’s why they say the Master Sword might sometimes reject her masters. If your magic becomes corrupted enough by your thoughts and feelings, there’s no light magic to mark you as her intended wielder, and she’ll register you as a threat instead, making it impossible to wield or so much as lift her.”
Twilight shifts uncomfortably, eyes darting to the blade. Has he experienced that too? Should- is that something warriors can ask him? Maybe such a shared experience could be something they could talk about, use to connect with each other in the wake of the shit show that their relationship has been of late. Later though, right now, in front of the others, such a thing wouldn’t be best.
“But shadow magic is just magic with different intent?” Four pushes, “not it’s own type?”
A nod from the vet, ears still pinned back. “As far as I know. As a rule though, I don’t tend to linger and study dark magic, so I only know a very little bit through observation.”
“How then,” Time speaks up for the first time in a while, one good eye fixed on where his pup’s necklace lays, although it’s now covered with cloth and armor, “can it be pure?”
A snort. “That’s what I want to know! So far though, my best guess is that other dimensions and worlds sometimes have the reverse; darkness being the safe and good things, and light being a piercing and dangerous thing to them. So ill intent would be light, and purity would be....” a frown and the screwing up of doll-like features, “like the moon in contrast to the sun? People say the moon represents purity in some cultures, so for those worlds where darkness is good, like night, the dark nature of magic might be seen like we see the moon, but light magic is cruel and harsh like a desert sun.”
There’s nods all around, some with understanding clear on their faces, others with confusion, and some, like Wild, with cluelessness. Even for his frustrations with the kid, it makes him smile a bit to see Wild trying, but so clearly left out of the loop that anyone would know he’s just following their example and pretending to have a clue of what’s happening. It's a sure reminder that, for all the stress the boy causes, he’s still a kid under all those scars and wildly wielded weapons.
“When we get to my era, I want a chance to look at that thing again,” the vet turns on their rancher, curiosity still glittering under furrowed brows. “There’s someone we might be able to ask for answers there.”
He doesn’t say who, and Twilight doesn’t ask, but the rancher agrees easily enough.
The conversation slips away after that, Wind pestering Legend about his experiences with magic, the vet pushing the kid out of his space with a smirk and refusals, and Time asking his pup a few questions while the rest of them drift into something more understandable for their group as a whole. Through it all though, Four’s gaze remains fixed on where the crystal lies, eyes unchanging even in the flicking light of the fire and the dying glow of the sun.
Warriors has no clue why he’s watching the smithy, but the hair on the back of his neck standing on end and the shiver that creeps down his spine as he does so keeps him watching.
Four is weird about magic, discussing it or using it. Unlike the others whose intentions are somewhat clear, he doesn’t let on at all why he’s the way he is, or how he feels, just that he won’t touch it.
That night, as they settle to bed, Sky and Wind on first watch together and already chatting easily beside the fire, the captain’s mind won’t let the thought go. Resting his head on his arms, his mind flickers back to the thousand fairy stories he used to hear told by the village elders to smaller children when he was young, to the ones he’d picked up in bits and pieces when he was older, in Castletown, and even the few he’d learned during the war. There’s an irrational part of him that wonders if the reasons figures from the fairytales had treated magic as they did would match the smithy’s own, but there’s really no way of knowing. Even if the tales are based, in part, on the ventures of ancient heroes, there’s no way to know for certain what’s founded in fact or not.
Still, it’s been a long while since he’s drifted off with a fairytale rolling about in his head, and he’d dare say he sleeps better for it.
-
After that night, Four continues acting weird. There’s something wrong behind his eyes, something almost familiar, in ways that set off alarm bells in the captain’s head. Something about Four has changed, and while he can’t name what, the dark glint of eyes; eyes that, before, he could have sworn were changing color from time to time, but which are now always just a shade darker than the vet’s, now are glassy in their shine, absent, clouded. It’s not like a fever, he checks for that, and It's not anything that effects the smithy’s fighting, but there is a change. There's something Wrong, and Warriors doesn’t know what it is.
The others don’t see it though; not most of them. Sky stares at him, worry creasing lovely features as he asks if the captain is feeling okay. Time nods it off but doesn’t seem worried. Twilight- he doesn’t go to Twilight, or Wild. He’s...he’s not sure how well talking over his own concerns with those two will go considering their aptitude for not sharing with the rest of the group about things. He’s convinced it won’t help him at all. Wind listens, but dismisses it after a time, after talking with the smith and apparently assuring himself all is well. When he brings it to Legend, the younger man looks grim, and he sees the vet watching Four with wariness, but that’s not entirely unusual to begin with; Legend’s always been more wary of Four than the rest of them, although he’s never said why.
It’s nice to have someone take his concerns to heart, but considering Legend is a bit paranoid, that’s not saying much really. He’s sure if he’d said anyone was behaving oddly, in a way that the vet doesn’t have answers for, he’d still see walls rising against that person.
Four is different though. He was quiet before, but now he’s very quiet. He was reticent before, but now he’s almost avoidant. Where advice came easily, now it’s slow if it comes at all, and where battle strategies could be formed with the thought that their small smithy could and would slip between them to watch their backs, now injuries fall for the absence of the youngster, who’s often fighting alone rather than with the rest of them.
He gets that the others don’t notice, he does. Twilight and Time and Wild have each other, Sky is so often caught in his head or chatting with the vet, Hyrule isn’t close to most of them, but least of all with the smithy he shares little in common with. With Wind, the smithy seems himself again, in most ways, but the moment their youngest’s back is turned, it’s like a shadow falls over the smith’s face.
It’s making him feel wary. He can’t name why, and he hates himself a bit for it, but he finds he’s checking randomly for the knife he carries, hand slipping to his sword without him even thinking of it, and there’s a hissing at the back of his mind when they make camp. On one hand, he’ll be wanting to settle far away from those dark eyes, but on the other, there’s part of him that can’t stand the idea of not putting himself between the smith and the kids in their group, between Four and even Time. He doesn’t even know why! He knows Four is a hero, and that the smithy has never done anything to harm anyone in this group, but he’ll find himself debating being close to or far away from the other more than he’d like, and it’s only when he wonders why that he even registers that somehow, he’s started seeing Four as a threat.
Nothing’s been done, but a voice in his head whispers that something will be, and he needs to be ready. The feeling that wells in his chest is familiar, but he can’t identify it, just knows he’s felt it before, although when is unclear. It makes sleeping even harder than it was before, and he finds himself nervous as a result; lack of sleep mixing with the need to always be on guard to send him into a state of almost constant anxiety.
The others start asking after his health. Time and Wind are demanding to know if he’s neglected his own injuries while treating theirs. Even Wild, who he’s never been close with, starts giving him slightly bigger portions. The champion never says anything to him directly, but when the kid thinks he’s not looking, heavy cerulean eyes will settle on him, worry pinching brows together and pulling at scarred features. The cook watches, making sure he’s eating, and then looks actually distressed when even food doesn’t seem to have any effect on the captain’s condition.
How does he explain to them though that the reason for his state is a screaming anxiety that eats away at his mind and heart, it’s source unknown?
He can’t even be mad at Twilight when the rancher approaches him as the wolf, settling at his side with all the ease he used to before they’d known. He knows now, they all do, but Twilight acts the same as usual and he can’t- he can’t deny that being allowed to stroke through rough fur does help, at least a little. The laughter when Wind pouts at being denied the same also helps, but it doesn’t stop the incessant fear building up within him. No, because the moment his eyes fall on Four, whose own gaze is fixed over small shoulders, the shiver rises again up his spine.
Something is wrong, and he’s seen something- done something to know that he recognizes this feeling, recognizes something off about Four, but he can’t name it. He wracks his mind for the memory of what this is, but thinking of the war, thinking of everything that happened, the betrayals and Cia and- he can’t do it. He tries, he does, but it quickly becomes apparent that thinking about that, out here, while already running thin with anxiety, will probably send him into an episode.
Zelda calls it PTSD. He doesn’t care what it is though- he’s not putting the kids through talking him out of it or seeing him like that.
He gives up searching his memory for answers, but he keeps his eyes open.
Maybe that’s why, when darkness has fallen over camp one night, and most of the boys are sleeping, Wind curled up against his side and the rest settled around the capfire, he’s seems to be the only one who sees Four slip from under his blanket, nearly silent, and creep towards where the rancher slumbers, back to back with his cub.
Time is on watch with Sky, the two talking in low voices as they walk around the perimeter of camp, senses turned without, to where threats should come from, but not within, where the smithy’s hand slips between Twilight’s layers, emerging again with the crystal in hand. A small knife slips forwards, cutting the chord neatly and tugging it free, although for half a moment he almost expects it to drag across sun-kissed skin and paint the rancher’s throat scarlet with the man’s own blood.
Somethings wrong. Something is very wrong.
Alerting Four that he’s awake though, when the other is so close to the rest, armed and clearly guarded against being noticed, isn’t optimal. As long as no harm is being done to his brothers, he’ll bide his time, wait until Four is in such a place that whatever has gotten into him won’t be able to cause the smith to harm the rest without Warriors stopping him.
Luckily, for them anyway, the purple-eyed smith doesn’t linger any longer than he needs to tuck his knife away. He’s creeping out of camp without a sound even as Time and Sky patrol on the other side, voices low and straining in what’s probably a very stilted debate that Warriors can’t bother to think of a subject for. His own eyes follow Four though, hands already rising to uncurl Wind’s fingers from his shirt. It's a process, because the kid is usually a light sleeper, but tucking his scarf around the younger seems to assure the unconcious teen that all is still well, and that the absence of the captain’s warmth is not cause for worry. He used to have to do this during the war too, on early mornings or when he needed to slip out for a leak or a drink or just to breath the night air for a moment.
He escapes without any of his brothers waking. Sky and Time see him, it’s hard to not with his size, but he just tells them he thinks he saw something. He can’t name what, doesn’t want to worry them before he knows why his own heart is pounding uncontrollably, but he tells them to keep their eyes and ears open and stay with the rest as he slips into the trees, sword in hand, shield grapsed tightly in his other hand.
If Four was going to do something to the others, he would have done it when he was still in camp. Time and Sky likely won’t need to tend to anything. He, on the other hand, is prepared for the worst.
Even so, he’s not expecting what he sees. He can feel his very heart shatter, something like a sob buiding up as an all too familiar sightreaches his eyes when he finds the smith again. A shadow warrior standing beside someone he’d seen as a brother, embracing each other as those dark purple eyes lock with crimson. Four’s smile is’t quite right, and the crystal- the shadow-
Dark magic, Legend said, comes from magic users whose intent becomes impure. A pure source of shadow magic though, condensed and palpable, easy to slip off with, to steal, would offer a far greater source of such power. Enough power to give form, as the scholar had stated, to a shadow. A threat. An enemy.
An enemy Four greets with a sharp smile and a warm embrace, one that’s welcomed with the same as the thing rises from whatever spell or magic had been cast, the remains of Twilight’s crystal now broken on the ground.
Now he understands. Betrayal is a familiar feeling, one he knows intimately, but of course he’d never wanted to think that- believe that he’d feel it because of the actions of a brother. He knows what it is to watch those he trusts slip off into becoming mere puppets for the enemy, a threat to those he loves.
He also knows that letting puppets roam free, while waiting for a chance to fix them, leads to precious lives lost, to the death of innocent people, and more pain than just slitting a few throats would give him. He learned that the hard way, he knows it well. By the end of the war, corruption was a disease that’s presence was a death sentence for the victim. Better to kill them quickly, better to end the infection, better to stop the spread and the continued loss, the pain of watching so many innocent lies be claimed by a force that would take their agency.
Yes, they were innocent. No, it was never their faults. Still, for the sake of all, their deaths had been required, a sacrifice to preserve everyone else. A neccessity to ensure the army of the enemy, the tools available to them, the pawns and skills thereof, would not increase.
He’s killed a brother before, but it doesn’t make it less painful anytime he has to do it again.
Hiding isn’t worth it anymore. He’s many things, but a coward that strikes without warning he will never be. Purple and crimson lift to stare at him, and fear flashes in one while aggression paints in teh unfamiliar ones.
“Captain-”
He doesn’t answer. Talking back to puppets, treating them like people, it makes it hurt more. Better to not see them as people anymore once they’re nothing more than pawns. Assigning names, memories, loe to the ones he’s had to slaughter for the safety of his people- all it does it kill what’s left of his heart.
“Wars, what are you-” a swing of his blade has words cut off, the smithy ducking back, fear rising.
The shadow lunges, and that, he knows, is the greater threat to him.
“Wars, stop! What are you doing?” The smithy shrieks. It sounds like him, the flicker of red, of warm red like fire, not like blood, sends a foolish hope through him that maybe, beneath whatever magic has taken hold here, there’s a glimmer of his brother. Memories of another he’d had similar thoughts of, only to have a knife lodged in his guts seconds later, have him shaking the thought off. Dark magic is too strong to show any weakness too. The only hope in anything where it’s involved is if the source lies before him and easily destroyable, and the sharp clawed shade of the smith might not even be the cause of the strange nature he’s witnessed as of late.
When the shadow lunges at him, he strikes back, unleashing every bit of power he’s got into the blow and sending the monster flying back, cracking against a tree trunk as the smith’s voice rises In anguish. “Captian, don’t! Please, don’t! He’s my friend!”
Befriending evil? How- how long? Does he know Four at all?
The shade bleeds red, somehow. Maybe it’s magic, meant to twist his mind, manipulate him, make him feel pity. He’s seen that before though. It won’t work, not on him, not on the hero who’s felled similar such monsters for hours on end at times. The color of the enemies’ blood makes no difference; it all spills the same regardless.
“Warriors, please!” The shriek rises, and the smith flies at him, hand raised.
His focus is on the shadow, rising again with crimson spilling from between grey lips. He can’t see what’s in the smith’s hand; if there’s a weapon, if there isn’t. He can’t spare a glance to see what color flickers in eyes that used to change with a blink. There’s no time.
Instinct, born of years of fights, of endless battles and betrayals, has his hand moving without a thought.
Four’s cry of pain as he crumples to the earth crushes anything that’s left of the captain’s heart.
#linked universe#linkeduniverse#febuwhump#febuwhump 2024#lu warriors#lu four#ketto writes#tw implied character death#tw violence#tw ptsd
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A Thousand Ways
Chapter 11: "Frost Over Charcoal"
Legend learns that he's really bad at saying no when someone is being sincere and genuine, especially when he trusts that someone.
First | <<Previous | Next>>
Febuwhump 2024 | Prompt 8: "Why won't it stop?"
Read On AO3
Warnings: Implied Character Death
----
"What happened in there?" Warriors asked, his voice so uncharacteristically soft that Legend just--He didn't know how to respond.
They had found the black blooded monsters on the road from that town to a larger, merchant village (Mabe Village, Hyrule said that it would survive to his era remarkably. Legend did wonder why that village had been the one to appear on Koholint) that would've had the information they'd need.
From there, a portal took them to the usual places of eras between their times.
They got to a local inn, but it only had two rooms with two beds each. As a result, they split into two groups with Time going with the four youngest heroes if Legend was excluded from the list, though none of them actually knew how old he was except for Wind. Either way, that left--and Legend was certain it was on purpose--Sky, Twilight, Warriors, and Legend in the other room.
Legend inhaled slowly, trying not to break down again. "I cannot emphasize how much I really do not want to talk about it."
He knew it was obvious, especially since he felt their eyes on him when he changed not five minutes ago. It didn't help that his current outfit was short sleeved either, and didn't have the really high collar he used to wear.
He knew his new scars were obvious, but he also knew that they weren't too familiar with his old ones that they shouldn't be able to tell just how many of the new scars were actually new. All they knew was that not a single stretch of skin on his arms and torso was scarless anymore.
"I know," Warriors promised, and Legend wondered why he was the one taking point in this conversation when both Twilight and Sky were harder to look in the eye and deny anything. Warriors, Legend just had the instinct to deny him everything out of pure spite.
Legend realized how wrong he was when Warriors approached, careful and slow, and guided him to sit. Legend just sort of stared, he didn't want to snap at anyone. He really didn't want to be sharp, driving them off was dangerous now. If he drove them off, who could he look to, who could he hope for see, if he ever got captured again? Besides, those almost three months of being separated put into perspective that yeah, he actually cared about them.
So he couldn't snap, he couldn't drive them away during what little time they'd have together. How could he taint such memories when soon enough those memories would he all he had of them?
Warriors had him sit on the bed beside Twilight. Sky was sitting just opposite them.
"I'll make a deal with you," Warriors said gently, "if you just answer three questions for us, a simple yes or no will suffice, we won't bring it up again unless absolutely necessary."
You see, Legend had teased all three of these heroes for being mother hens, for being fussy and worrywart's, he teased them and called them the group's "big brothers" to Time's group "dad" thing, the others even agreed!
This was just unfair. All three of them ganging up on him and even though he thought Warriors would've been the easiest to shut down, the earnestness and sincerity was almost overwhelming, combined with Twilight leaning into his side, warm and grounding, and Sky just being there and offering an encouraging smile.
He didn't break, but he huffed and had to look away and curl in on himself as some kind of measure of defense.
"Fine," he bit out. "Three questions."
"Are you--Is it okay?" Sky spoke up immediately.
He didn't respond for a long moment, debating lying. Finally he just quietly shook his head and muttered, "No."
Warriors squeezed his hands gently and Twilight's arm wrapped around his shoulder. It made the pressure behind his eyes worse but he really tried to ignore it.
"Those tools on the table--"
"Yes."
Warriors' mouth clicked shut and the soft look was briefly replaced by something blazing and violent. Legend flinched into Twilight just as quickly as that look was snuffed out and replaced by something sad.
"Is there anything we can do to help?" Twilight asked.
Legend shook his head, not pulling away from how he had curled into him as a result of Warriors' anger. "No. Just--stay."
"Of course," Sky promised. "You’re stuck with us, vet. I don’t think the Rancher's going to let you go anytime soon anyways."
He snorted, forcing the amusement out more than anything to just please, get rid of this heavy atmosphere. Stop all this worry and claustrophobic caring.
Warriors cracked a small smile. "I guess we know how the bedding situation's going to be."
"Shut up, you’re just jealous I get the kid," Twilight retorted playfully. Legend startled a bit as the second arm wound around him and pulled him into the warm chest behind him, but he knew who it was so he didn't jump too bad.
Warriors huffed. "As if I'd want to share a bed with him, he kicks."
"Like a bunny," Sky commented, a grin on his face that had Legend immediately squawking.
"Not if you cuddle him enough," Twilight chimed in and hugged him closer.
Legend felt his face heat up as he tried to escape. "I will kick you right now--let me go."
"Aww, don't be like that, bunny," Sky teased.
"Don’t call me that!"
Sky cackled and Twilight and Warriors both laughed too. Legend squirmed but couldn't escape Twilight's grip without actually trying.
Eventually he just gave up, and about that time conversation shifted to something far more calm and casual.
The older heroes mostly talked between themselves over Legend's head. And older they were, none of them were secretive about their ages. Sky was the youngest of the three at 23 and was six years post his adventure, Twilight came next at 26 and eight years since his last adventure, then Warriors was 28 and ten years in the aftermath of the war. Legend just relaxed into Twilight and let their voices become a white noise as he played with his magic in his hands until he ended up falling asleep first.
The three older heroes knew what had happened in that cell. Twilight had told them that Legend confirmed it was his torture cell, and they had an idea of what tools had been used, and they knew that he wasn't okay in its aftermath.
Thankfully, as promised, none of them said a thing to the others. As far as the younger heroes and Time knew, Legend just lost his cool and ran off into the woods before he exploded the rest of the building like he did the front door.
After a few more unnamed eras, Legend stepped through the portal and was immediately greeted by the familiar magic of his era.
But when he opened his eyes, his blood went cold.
They were on a path just outside Kakariko, but the late afternoon sky was darkened by smoke rather than the setting of the sun. A huge plume of black and darkness filling the air, he turned too slowly, despite getting whiplash from the action.
The billow came from the wrong direction.
Fire should not be burning that high that way. Ever. That kind of fire was a forest fire, a house fire, it was something damaging and dangerous. That was no campfire.
"No," he breathed.
"Vet? Whe--COLLECTOR WAIT!"
He did not, in fact, wait.
Instead he ran headfirst toward the forest. He ran right where that fire was burning.
Showing up far too late, Legend came up to a large crowd that had already formed. He shoved through, people yelping and beginning to scold him before going silent as they realized who he was.
He reached the front of the crowd and the edge of the property and he stopped.
Oh goddesses, no.
A farmhouse too familiar for his rabbit-fast heart to handle was burning sky high. Deep red and orange marring the oaken walls, staining it black and eating holes through the wood, windows either blocked by flames or burned beyond transparency.
"Link?" Someone called. "Is that--Link, I'm so sorry--"
"Where are they?" He demanded, searching the faces of Kakariko's villagers. "Where--My grandparents, they're not--"
"We hadn't seen them leave, but they may not have been home," one of the ladies--Elizabeth, the wife of the mason-- said.
Legend inhaled sharply. He couldn't lose them--Not them too. Not like this. He couldn't--
He ran toward the burning farmhouse ignoring all the cries for him to wait and stop as if this wasn't his home, as if this wasn't where he grew up and it wasn't where his grandparents may be dying or already be dead at.
He never wanted to return home to this.
The fire had started in the house, it was spreading but the plants were well trimmed and the ground well worn from walking. It did not spread easily to the pasture, but the barn was caught in it. He threw a blast of pure magic at the cucoo coop as he passed it. He saw the pasture empty and hoped to the goddesses that Epona and the cows had ran by now. The fowl were escaping quickly and Legend was about to slam his whole body weight into the burning front door.
Someone grabbed him from behind.
"Vet no! You can't--"
"Let me go!" He fought against their hold.
"It's about to collapse! You'll die!"
He didn't care. He had to find them. He needed to find them. They were all he had left! They weren't supposed to die like this! They were supposed to grow older, maybe even be there when he finally settled, they were supposed to live to their natural ends! He had to--
The farmhouse that Legend spent half his formative years in collapsed. The burned walls giving in to the weight of the upper floors. It crashed to the ground and whoever grabbed him pulled him close and curled their body around his protectively.
A rush of ash and soot surrounded them, turning the world dark.
The dust settled and the fire still burned, though it was more of a huge bonfire that tried to spread.
Legend shoved Twilight away and grabbed the Ether Medallion.
Winter came early in that moment, an explosion of frost and ice exploding off him and leaving every person untouched but the flames were subdued.
He wanted to collapse, magical precision like that was exhausting, but the muddled voices stopped him. He couldn't break, he couldn't fall and scream and beg the goddesses to just please, let him have someone.
Why did they need to take everyone from him? Why was he doomed to lose them all?
He couldn't. He couldn't break. There were people here and he was still the hero. He had to stay strong, be that damned pillar of strength and courage for the world that was out to break him.
Link?
He turned, looked down, and a little ash covered cucoo was approaching him.
You came back, Piyoko clucked, nudging his leg. I'm glad to see you... I don't know what happened, one moment things were fine then the next the house was burning. Your grandparents had just gone inside for dinner too.
Legend sighed softly. "Gather the others. I'll get you guys to safe farmers."
Piyoko clearly had her own opinion about his response but thankfully didn't push it. She chirped and went toward wherever the other animals had run to. Legend turned to head back to the crowd, his throat trying to close up and his eyes stinging.
It's just the smoke, he told himself.
"Link? Are you..."
"I'll see what animals survived and check on the crops," he told them as calmly as he could, and a few--people who knew him--looked even sadder. "I'd--I would like to see it cleaned, but I don’t have the time do so, though I'd be willing to pay for it to be done. If you’re willing to help out, or willing to take what surviving animals there are, then I'll be here tomorrow morning by dawn."
The heroes looked confused and a bit against that decision, but Legend could care less. Most of the villagers gave him looks of pity, some mixed with concern, others with contempt.
"Everyone should get back home before it gets dark, monsters still roam these parts even if it's rarer than before."
Murmurs seemed to agree with his statements and the townsfolk left, some muttering about how sorry they were for the fates of his grandparents, others promising to be back in the morning. None of them actually referred to them as his grandparents, only calling them by name and telling Legend they were sorry.
Then they were all gone and left the nine heroes in the melting aftermath of the fire.
"Why'd you promise that?" Wild asked with a frown on his face. "We have a job to do, can't the family's next of kin handle this, or maybe the nearest town's mayor--"
"I'm the next of kin."
The following silence was horrible and it further ripped at his chest as he directed his carefully crafted blank look at the champion.
"This was my grandparents farm. Go hunt monsters if you want, I have things to handle right here and that starts with finding the animals that survived while the rubble finishes cooling, that ice is still steaming after all."
This time, nobody stopped him when he turned his back. Twilight and Hyrule both followed him.
Piyoko was on the edge of the survived forest, the fact that none of the surrounding trees were caught in the fire... There were four cucoos, Epona, and a cow. More than Legend expected frankly.
They saw him approach and he knelt down in front of them. Piyoko was quick to press against him and Epona nuzzled his face. Ali, the cow he had won in Labrynna and sent to the farm, drew closer too.
What now, Link?
He let out a steady breath. "Hopefully some of the other farmers around will take you guys in. You guys know as well as I do that I won't be... Rebuilding to stay here."
Epona nudged his head. We know. We'll stay with you, I can keep up.
We'll go, don't worry. It isn't a surprise, Autumn, a russet hen, cooed.
He got a headcount. All the hens intended to go, Piyoko stubbornly insisted on staying with him, and Epona promised she'd follow him too. Ali assured she'd be fine on a new farm.
After that he went and got them all under shelter, he didn't care what the other heroes were doing, he just made sure the shade out by the pasture wasn't about to collapse and then collapsed there with the remaining farm animals.
Twilight and Hyrule had been nearby, but they didn't come too close. Twilight did, eventually, but he just sat beside Legend while Hyrule headed toward the small orange glow over by the nonexistent front gate.
"I'm sorry," Twilight said quietly.
Legend tried desperately to keep himself in check. "It's fine," he managed. "I don't--They're... They were inside when the fire broke out, I-I can't--Why didn't you let me go in?"
There was a chance they were still alive before the building collapsed.
"If you went in, you would've died. It was about to collapse and it did seconds later. If you'd gone inside... I'm sorry about your grandparents."
If he'd gone inside maybe he'd have stopped killing all the people he's cared about.
"Go join the others," he grumbled, wrapping his arms tightly around himself.
"I'm not leaving you alone right now."
"I'm not alone. I have Piyoko, and Epona, Ali, Autumn, Britt, Nettle, and Thorn."
"I'm still staying. I promised to help you and that's what I'll do."
Oh he was unsteady. He had to keep strong, don’t break... He's broken too much this adventure, too many times.
Twilight wound an arm around his shoulders and pulled him into a hug slowly, giving him plenty of time to escape but he went rigid and didn't quite process what was happening until the rancher was holding him to his chest, a hand in his hair and carding through it gently.
Oh.
He buried his face into his chest and sobbed. The dam broke and so did he.
"It's okay, it's going to be okay. We're all here and we'll help you get through this."
"I-I can't--I--" Legend gasped, choking. "I can't keep doing this," he forced out.
"I know--"
"Why doesn't it stop? Why won't it stop?" He begged, he needed to know.
Why did he still hurt? Why did every single person he cared about get hurt? How could he protect them if he's the reason they're hurt?
"Why won't it stop?"
Next>>
#linked universe#febuwhump 2024#lu legend#linkeduniverse#legend lu#fanfic#lu warriors#lu wild#lu sky#lu twilight#linked universe fanfiction#whump fic#whump#epona#implied character death#house fire#prosie writes#a thousand ways au#fluff to angst
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Linktober Day 6
Mask(s)
Soft and sweet with just a hint of melancholic because 1.I'm tired and probably need a nap father than coffee, 2.I actually managed to make a pretty good mocha and the Anchorage LOZ animatic came onto my playlist before writing this and it kind of influenced my mood, and 3. I'm saving the usual Majora's Mask flare of angst for another prompt because I was having way too much fun dissecting the tragedy of the Hero of Time before sleep deprivation snatched the idea away which is usually my sign to pass the heck out and save the second option for when I have more energy lol.
For the Warriors fans, also Warriors is a disaster of an older sibling but we adore and appreciate him for it in this household, as always can be implied romantic or platonic between him and reader.
You were all but pinned down to the ground, brought down more effectively and unable to find the strength to get up.
Well, not literally, there were no enemies nearby, the chaos at camp had long since died down and there wasn’t anything much to do now that night had fallen, the heavens deigning to put all of it’s glittering jewels on display.
Were it any other day you’d probably focus more on appreciating it in full, the fire was crackling merrily, you were safe and had a full stomach and even with the ever present threat of the Shadow possibly deciding to ambush you all while most of your guards were down, you had your boys with you and the crisp autumn petrichor was a balm on your soul, weary from the journey.
Maybe it would be fine to rest for a little while.
And then the small figure clinging to you flinched, burrowing closer and holding onto your tunic like a lifeline. And awareness came to you like a smack over the head with a log, your fingers gently carding through blond locks as you hum gently. Weighting options and just how quietly you could move without bothering the precious Sprite at your side.
You had guessed Time had been a sweet kid, and you still wanted to lodge a formal complaint with the gods for writing such cruel fate for him because the man couldn’t catch a break and you’re not the only one to take it personally. But he was killing you here, this is how you die, with an adorable but oh so heartbreakingly sad little boy having fallen asleep leaning against you after telling you all sorts of stories about his extensive mask collection.
(You don’t know wether you want to cry, scream or laugh, Mask was so, so young. It breaks your heart, just a little.
Really, the deities of Hyrule must adore tragedies. Bastards.)
Sighing, you decide to compromise, gently keeping the Kokiri boy right where he is, fast asleep and with barely any nightmares as you hum and card your fingers through the spun gold strands, you brush your fingers through the last masks he fell asleep mid through telling the story of how he’d acquired. If you were careful surely you’d be able to reach his pack on his side so he wouldn’t worry later.
A pair of brown boots invade your vision, Warriors crouches down. You think you spot a flash of surprise on his eyes as he spots Mask napping on you, and then fond amusement of a big brother you knew he directed often towards Wind, tone low, “Well would you look at that, out like a light. It’s a rare honor for him to trust anyone like this.”
You chuckle a bit, shaking your head, “I can tell, he’s a good kid. I’ve barely met him for a day and I’d already take on an army for him.”
“Welcome to my world.”, comes Warriors dry response, though you both knew he was a hundred percent serious, his own mask quickly falling away as he gently picked up the Deku Sprout Mask to put it back in the small sprite’s pouch, hiding it’s confused, fearful sadness from your gaze (and it’s an effort, not to twitch, as your rage towards Majora gained even more kindling to burn) as the soldier handled it with the due solemnity of being one of the few Mask would allow to even touch the masks without his immediate supervision, “... I never thought I’d see him again, as...”
“I know.” Your tone was quiet, as you carefully picked your choice of words.
If there’s one thing you knew about any Link, is that they’re all really good elder brother’s and that they are too hard on themselves. Warriors specially, Mask and Wind were his everything, there wouldn’t be words that could describe how gutted he was, after confirming his suspicions with you, regretting not saying anything against Mask joining the battle field back then, loathing himself for not convincing him or Lana into letting him stay in spite of his bad feeling that as soon as the young hero of time passed through that portal he was unlikely to ever meet him again.
... You settle for something simple, instead, reaching a hand to softly pat his head, taking care not to mess his hair too much, “You did good, Wars, it’s not your fault. Mask also knows you did your best.”
He still, sighing, the mask falling away as he guides your hand to his lips, quietly thankful (really, like big brother like little brother, your wonderful, silly, caring boys. You make a point to cheerfully bat away the butterflies in your stomach, ), “... Feels hard to believe that, some times. Thank you.”
You hum, after putting the Zora mask away, Warriors takes Mask’s other side, pulls you closer and breathes.
(Just in case, he lies to himself.)
You quietly listen to his stories about his little brother, and Warriors is content.
#linked universe x reader#linked universe warriors x reader#will I ever post the original story I was gonna use for this prompt?#who knows certainly not my sleep deprived self lol#more implied than romantic if you ask me but frankly that's about what I expected when Warriors decided to show up on this prompt#man is the most charming of the Chain but you can't tell me he would know where to begin with any sort of romantic feelings#so lots of unspoken understanding happens here instead so it's up to interpretation lol#Reader: I've had Mask for a day and a half but if anything happened to him I'd murder everyone in Hyrule and then myself.#Warriors. Approving: I know this. And I love you (feeling unspecified).#The Rest of the Chain: And we support you#Is Warriors wanting to be close in reference to the Kohga prompt?#Does he just want Mask and Reader close because he is smart enough to infer what happens to him#Does he just want them there because like all Links he has several abandonment issues?#Who knows! I just know that he is rife with trauma tokens so you all can spin the wheel and decide#Mask is probably Warriors biggest regret and I am going to shake people about it if not stopped#You can't tell me that he wouldn't have wanted to take him in once he learned he was an orphan traveling all alone with his pony in the WoA#All Links are big sibling coded just on different wavelengths#The WoA was just Wars accidentally picking up several feral strays while a war happened in the back#ex Mask Wind Tetra Skull Kid and Linkle#summer writes linktober 2023#summer writes
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Soft Deity
Another commission!
Masterlist
They asked for FD being soft on his s/o. Short, simple and sweet.
Content under the cut!
You wouldn’t have known it when you first met him, but he was the gentlest being in the 16 known realms.
Others saw him as mean, malicious and merciless. But you couldn’t fathom anything negative to be said about the being in front of you.
You held onto him tighter and tucked your face against his shoulder. He was warm.
It was such a stark contrast from the deity you’ve been taught about. It wasn’t as if this was anything particularly impressive to begin with. However, having seen him in only cold armor for most of your relationship, it surprised you by the gentle warmth that came from the close contact, without the heartless metal in between.
It shouldn’t have been shocking but here you were, enjoying it and soaking it up for all it’s worth.
“Enjoying yourself, Jewel?” He whispers. As if he’s afraid that you would have said anything else.
You chuckle at the thought. How can he treasure your opinion so much? You’re a mere speck of dust, a mere blink in existence compared to him. You nod and hum in tandem, letting him know that you’re content.
“Good.” He sighs of relief.
You snuggle closer, letting your eyes close in the peace of the moment.
You feel him raise his hand and gently card his fingers through your hair. You smile and relax further.
Before he would have held you whenever he pleased. You had asked him why he felt the need to carry you. There was something within him that moved him to be your protector, your guardian and your hero. Those were his words.
You dealt with it quietly at first, not wanting to offend him or make him upset. You broke down quickly seeing that he was more willing to keep you within his arms if you had no complaint. However, his blasted armor was the most uncomfortable thing to be held against.
That moment, when he said that he was happy that you allowed him to do so, you brought up the minor inconvenience. You didn’t know what to expect. Well, that’s a minor lie. You had expected him to reinforce his motives and decisions. He was The Deity. He could choose.
You hadn’t expected him to nearly drop you, drop to his knee and ask for your forgiveness.
Dumbfounded, you let him go off rambling in what you soon learned to be honest regret and bashfulness on his part.
You laugh about it now.
You asked if he could take his armor off. If that would solve the problem.
He had started to take it off then and there. You scrambled to stop him, trying to remind him that you’re still traveling and he would still need it. It was just a question.
You snort at the memory and grin wider.
“What amuses you so, Jewel?” The Fierce Deity pokes the top of your head with his nose.
You hum and look up at him. “You. And the scene you nearly caused when I told you the armor was painful to lean against.”
You feel him stiffen up. He coughs a bit and adjusts his hold on you. “And is this sufficient? Is it to your liking?”
You have to refrain from rolling your eyes. “Yes. This is perfect. Thank you.”
“It requires minimal effort.” He says softly once more. “No task or request is too burdensome should you ask it, my Jewel.”
You can feel a soft blush come across your cheeks. You bring your hand up and cup his jaw. It looks dwarfed compared to the sheer size of him. You bring him lower, looking into his eyes. He follows you wordlessly, leaning into your touch.
You lean up and place a chaste kiss against his lips. You see his entire demor change as he melts from the simple act of affection. His shoulder’s sag and he sighs just behind himself. It’s quiet and restrained. As if the action of enjoying a kiss was a forbidden notion. The Fierce Deity curls around you some more, as if to keep you all to himself. With his eyes closed, he pulls you closer and his grip tightens. His Adam’s Apple bobs for a moment before he hesitantly kisses your forehead.
You sigh happily and rest your head against him once more.
No more words are spoken.
“Are you two done or what? The rest of us are going to sleep but we need to know if either of you plan on taking a watch.” Link stands in front of you, hands on his hips and an unamused expression on his face.
You bite your lip only marginally embarrassed to have been caught in this position, even if you weren’t doing anything particularly scandalous. They all know the Deity is soft for you and you alone.
Speaking of, he hardens again. The soft lines on his face smooth out and he straightens his back to meet Link head on when he speaks. There’s a mutual respect there, somewhere but neither are willing to step down. You think they both respect that of the other.
“No need.” The Deity responds. The warmth in his voice is gone as well and he suddenly feels very cold to be held against even if the armor is gone. “I’ll take the watch. You all may sleep for the night.”
You snap your head in his direction. “What? What about you? You need to rest as well!”
“I have no need like the mortals do.” He softens once more ever so slightly as he looks your way. “I will protect as is my duty. May you never fear.”
Link throws his hands up. “Understood. Got it. I will tell the others.”
“See to it that you do.” The hardness in his voice is striking.
You shiver on impulse and shrink in instinct.
The Deity sighs and brushes your hair, sagging and holding you preciously. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
You smile. The warmth returns.
#linked universe#fierce deity link#fierce deity#fierce deity x reader#fd x reader#legend of zelda#linkeduniverse#(?)#implied linked universe#linked universe x reader
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heres what there was of the other prompts done
#linked universe#ok to reblog#lu legend#lu wild#lu wars#linkeduniverse#lu fanart#wild linked universe#warriors linked universe#legend linked universe#injury tw#violence tw#(not rly seen more implied but just in case)#confinement tw#restraint tw
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The Loaf
This one's for you, @bllaaaaarrgh
Title: The Loaf
Warnings: Implied major character death. The loaf wins. Unironic use of the word "Yonkers".
Summary: Wild fist fights a massive loaf of bread. Read all about it here: https://at.tumblr.com/bllaaaaarrgh/imagine-this-wild-fist-fighting-a-massive-loaf-of/lsi6mmc4dpb6
General Notes: I tried something different with this one; it switches back and forth between past and present. Past will be in italics.
More Notes: This is sheer insanity. I had a lot of fun with it, and am fully prepared to face the consequences of my actions.
It was a curse, he was sure of it. Whether it was the bread or himself that was cursed, he may never know for sure. But he did know, with absolute certainty, that normal bread didn't behave in such a manner.
But he didn’t have time to question the origins of the loaf. Barely had time to arm himself with a spoon. By the time he saw the loaf, it was too late.
--
It had all started hours earlier, when Time had called for a break and the Links had settled down in a clearing to rest their legs, refill their waterskins, or take a quick nap. It had taken minimal convincing for everyone to agree to let Wild wander; go off on his own to run off some energy and scavenge for interesting mushrooms. And that, if he had been able to look back on the occasion, may have been his first mistake.
--
The loaf towered over him, easily five feet tall. It was just bread, really, but he could swear it had a face. The perfectly baked crust flaked in such a way as to give it the impression of angry eyebrows, glaring down at Wild as if he had, somehow, personally wronged the bread. As if he weren’t solely responsible for giving it life.
--
He found the mushroom beside a tree, nestled between a mess of roots as mushrooms so often are. It was bigger than any mushroom he’d ever seen, and glowing a bright intense orange. It seemed alive, in a way that far surpassed all other fungi. The glow pulsated in the evening light, and a grin broke across Wild’s face as ran forward, clutching the stalk of the mushroom between his hands. It was hard to pull up, the mycelium reaching far into the ground. The mushroom was strong, but Wild was stronger. Eventually, the roots snapped and Wild stumbled backwards with the loss of resistance, landing hard on the ground but grinning from ear to ear at the massive mushroom in his hands. It was going to make a fantastic snack, he thought. And that, anyone would agree, was his second mistake.
--
Wild was a gentleman, so he let the bread throw the first punch. If what the bread did could, in fact, be called a punch. It moved in ways that shouldn’t have been possible for such a massive wall of freshly cooked yeasty goodness, traveling on invisible feet to hurl itself at Wild, whacking his head with the usually-satisfying crackle of crisp bread crust being torn. It didn’t sound as nice, up close; not when the bread was pounding into his skull.
He swung the spoon, then; whacking it into the side of the bread in a desperate attempt to bring down his biggest mistake. To undo the monster he had created. But the bread was a step ahead, as it always seemed to be. It made sense, he realized as it happened, that a bread that could come to life would also be able to absorb a wooden spoon.
The spoon disappeared into the side of the bread, consumed just like every other chance he had at defending himself. It was just him and his fists, now. Just Wild’s bare hands against the bread.
--
He didn’t take the mushroom back to the makeshift camp to show the others; if he did, they’d only tell him not to eat it. They’d say it’s ‘too big’ and ‘too orange’ and ‘doesn’t even grow around here where’d you find it put it back’. There were times he was absolutely sure that they didn’t want him to have any fun at all.
And so he set up right where he was. Started a fire, heated up his portable cooking pot, and set to work on preparing his latest creation.
The mushroom was powdery; almost flour-like, when he crushed it with a rock and sprinkled it into the pot. With a texture like that, only one course of action made sense: he was going to make bread. Or a pancake, really, given the supplies he had to work with. But it would be huge and delicious and when he brought it back to camp, everyone would ‘ooh’ and ‘ahh’ over how good it was. Just as long as they never found out what it was made out of.
He tossed in the other ingredients; some milk of questionable origins, an egg he’d found in a hot spring three or four months prior, and a sprinkle of his live yeast culture. Afterall, there was nothing worse than flat bread.
Once the last few ingredients were added, he stirred it all up with his spoon and sat on a rock to wait; humming quietly to himself as he watched the pot patiently. Alone, in the woods, cooking bread made out of mushrooms. It was truly the recipe for his third mistake.
--
With nothing left to fight back with, Wild flung his fists with all his might. They impacted against the side of the loaf, bread flakes flying but doing nothing to halt the path of carnage the loaf was creating. The fifth time his fist connected with the crust, he was forcefully reminded of the fate of his favorite spoon.
He was absorbed. Slowly, to give him the illusion of hope. His hand sunk into the bread, encased within the warm interior of his latest baking endeavor. “Yonkers!” He shouted in panic as the bread sucked him in up to her shoulder. He was powerless to fight back against the loaf; he had no weapons, and bread would not hear reason. He was well and truly trapped.
--
The bread didn’t stop rising when it hit pancake-height, but he didn’t really question it until it crested the rim of the pan. It just kept going up, and Wild could only stare in wonder at the cooking miracle he had discovered. They would be eating this bread for weeks; and he wouldn’t be leaving the area without a stockpile of the magical mushroom that had made it all possible.
He didn’t worry until the bread actually stepped over the edge of the pan and onto the forest floor, dried leaves sizzling under its heat.
He jumped up, then, reaching for his sword out of instinct. But the bread beat him to it. It moved as a single unit; just one hulking loaf that took everything in its path, pressing into Wild and consuming his sword. His shield, his slate, his cloak. The loaf was after his very dignity, and he wouldn’t stand for it.
He grabbed his spoon from where he had leaned it against a tree and stood his ground. He didn’t call for help, he didn’t fetch the others, he faced the consequences of his experimental cooking all on his own. An undeniable fourth mistake.
--
It was painless, being taken by the bread; a bright spot he would ponder briefly as he was absorbed. It was warm, and cozy, and almost felt like a hug. A hug he couldn’t escape from, delivered by a loaf of bread, but a hug all the same. He fought with everything he had, but it was a futile battle from the start. He had spent his whole life fighting; at least as much of it as he was aware of. He had taken down guardians and yiga and hinoxes a hundred times his size. He had ridden a lynel as he took it down, and laughed in the face of Ganon himself. But this, he knew now, was his weakness. He could never have been prepared for the loaf.
“Yonkers,” He whispered sadly as the bread worked its way up to his head. It was a cool story, at least. He only hoped that somebody could defeat the loaf in time to tell it.
#Story Time With Squiggles#Linked Universe#LU Wild#The Loaf#Wild cooks#Wild picks a mushroom#Bread of questionable sentience#Implied major character death#But don't take that too seriously this is full on crack#Don't take any of this seriously#Wild loses his favorite spoon#LU Time#He's mentioned by name so I'll tag him I guess#Guys this is poetry for real#Squiggles gets really really sleep deprived and really really stressed? Something like this was bound to happen#Yonkers!
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we're eepy and our fuckin headphones died so take more ravioli, we're prolly gonna eep
(Seriously, though, how does Ravio even have that many nicknames for him anyways? It’s absurd. Legend can’t help but be a little cautious of the amount of bunny-related ones, too. Sure, it’s probably just because he’s got a weird obsession and it can’t possibly be because he’s found out about…that form, but it does cause minor distress if Legend thinks about it too hard.)
#the rainbow twinks#rainbow ramblings#the rainbows linked universe tag#linked universe#lu#linked universe legend#lu legend#ravioli#its. like. implied. its in the same fic as the last snippet so..#four!
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Don’t mind me, my brain came up with a little piece of a dialogue and I wanted to write it down and share. I should go to sleep
Oh!
Also four responded with
“But it’s really pressable :]”
And I don’t blame him
I MEAN ITS A GIANT RED GLOWING BUTTON WITH A SIGN THAT SAYS “DO NOT PRESS”
WHAT IS HE GONNA DO? NOT PRESS IT?? NOT A F*CKING OPTION
#I’m not a writer so it’s not… that great#I’m kinda proud though how my brain didn’t immediately forget the whole scenario#linked universe#linkeduniverse#lu legend#lu four#legend linked universe#four linked universe#implied legend/fable#because I can
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