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yourlocaltreesimp · 6 months

Note

Heyo! Can I request how the boys would react to the reader/their crush complimenting them?

- 🥣 anon

Yes you may, and welcome to the Anon list officially, officially!

PT 1: Time, Twilight, Wild

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Chain getting complimented by their crush!

Time

Stone faced on the outside- buts that’s because he’s a windows error page

But when he resets it’s literally just him melting with adoration.

He’s thinking about that for the next week, whenever you’re next to him, whenever his mind gets to quiet, whenever he’s close to falling asleep.

“Hey Time?” Your curious voice was hushed as most other members of the chain were sleeping, and judging from your own sleepy voice, you weren’t too far.

“Yes?” He shifted over slightly to get a better look at you, sprawled out over your bedroll and propped up by an arm. The fire’s glow did you well, painting your in warmth and gold.

“That’s it- I just wanted to see your face. G’night” And just like that, you were peacefully asleep. He, however, could do anything but. He was unaware of courting in your universe, unaware of what that ment for him and his yearning for which he thought was one-sided. But he was glad the others couldn’t see the smile he let crack his face, hand the way he carefully tucked you in.

Twilight

He skips the mental reset and goes straight to panicking.

Look, he was down bad before- he’s worse now.

Twilight couldn’t find anywhere else to rest his eyes except on you as you sat, a colony of stray ordon cats gathered around you. You tried your hardest to give them all equal attention, much as you did the group, but one crawled it’s way into your lap, garnering your attention. He didn’t know he could be jealous of a cat.

“I love being here.” His head soared to hear that you to loved his home, its charm outweighing any possible doubts you had in your mint

“Glad to hear that” He so badly wanted to say more as the silence lingered, but your content smile persuaded him into simply letting it be.

“I wanna live somewhere like here someday. Hell- I even might stay here if you aren’t sick of me by the end of all this” You looked up and his heart caught, he managed a shy smile as he wringed his hands out nervously. As if he could ever be sick of you- the mere thought was atrocious. “I wouldn’t mind staying here for you” If his cheeks weren’t red before, he could guarantee they were now.

Wild

There’s a few things you compliment him on that he’s suave af about. His scar, however is not one of them.

It makes him feel lesser. Reminds him of his shortcomings

Compliment that and this man is sold. Not only are you interested in him, but you’re interested in all of him. Not just the champion that he was dubbed

It was the forth or fifth time he caught you staring, your eyes lingering on his face. Now that’s not so say he didn’t like your attention, no, but he was starting to wonder.

“Why do you keep staring at me”

“I’m not staring at you” Your unassuming response gets an amused huff out of him “I’m admiring” The way you stressed the word made adrenaline deep into his blood in a way he was familiarly unfamiliar with- something only you could do to him.

“What is there to admire?” He looked down at himself, he was in his usual ensemble of clothing, his hair done the same way as usual, so what was it that caught you?

“Your scar” Oh? Oh. His mind was quiet, you were quiet. Of course the most radiant thing to walk the earth finally noticed his normality. Finally noticed his insufficiency. Finally noticed he’s a fa- “I like it” What? “It’s so… you. I hadn’t realised how well it fits your face. I wish whatever happened didn’t happen, yeah…” Your voice trailed off in an enraptured trial. Enough to leave his mind drawing blanks “But I think I like you more this way” You smiled, satisfied with your words and went back to what you were supposed to be doing while he could do anything but. The most precious person he’s met not only appreciates his most ugly and unworthy parts, but loves him more because of them… That was a concept he’d need to ponder.

#linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #link x reader #link x you #x reader #lu time #lu twilight #lu wild #lu twilight x reader #lu wildxreader #lu timexreader #firreplies #fir’s library

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yourlocaltreesimp · 26 days

Note

if I was the guide I would try to help link more then just help him with puzzles and where to go next. I would try helping with enemies and bosses by distracting them, help with stealth missions by making noise to distract guards, scavenge for things like rupees, bombs, arrows, food ect, for them, watch over link while he slept,help teach them how to play instruments cuz i doubt they would automatically know how to play, help keep them warm at night, let link vent and not bottle up his emotions,ya know cuz the poor boy deserves some help. Maybe guide reader help teach the links how to fight, cuz time, wind, and maybe legend, hyrule and how to sword fight cuz there's no way time and wind would know how to sword fight when their journeys first began, they were just kids, legend and four might have cuz legends uncle knew how to use a sword and fours grandfather is a blacksmith and in the four swords manga his father is captain of the hyrule knights, hyrule I don't honestly know if the fairies taught him how to fight with weapons, twilight was taught by rusl, sky, warriors and calamity were training/were already knights, wild would definitely have to be re taught how to fight again, and sage already remembered/ relearned how. I don't know how old first, korodai and courage were when they first learned,How would the chain react to that if they remembered? Sorry it's so long.😅

Sorry this one’s been sitting so long! This is going to be a bit of a ramble, but it’ll make sense! Took some liberties!!

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Player/Guide!reader is the epitome of comfort to the boys. Much of their lives they have been taught through experience to trust no one —not even their own goddess— lest they get a dagger in the back. And at first they are cautious. A person with no ties to hyrule who is so eerily familiar with the heroes and utterly bewitching? They’re half convinced you are a trick, meant to play on their insecurities and trauma.

Time gathers his recollections first. He remembers your calm voice correcting his form and swings, your encouragement to keep improving— not with the intent of killing, but with only his safety at heart. He’d buried his blade within the thick trunk of a tree and heard your old whispers through his ears, and it all made sense. That even as his bones were cracked and reformed and the threads of time unraveled, you were consistent. Even when he wasn’t the same him that you loved before, you were back again. Protecting him, even if he didn’t need it. You were arms for him to return to and someone to hold and love.

Legend remembered almost on accident. He’d bolted up from the solid earth, rings snagging at his hair as his fingers tugged at the root. His chest rose and fell rapidly, like that of a frightened animal. You’d cautiously found your way in front of him, talking him down from the world within. Your hands massaged his palms easing the tension and removing his hair from his grip. You’d done this many times before, he realised. You were all he had for the months after leaving Koholint, your unconditional love despite his less than stellar attitude was something he felt guilty to forget. But perhaps now he’d be content to make up for it by letting you keep him there, curled up against your chest… even if he’d get some teasing.

Twilight didn’t actually remember on his own. In fact, he’s so stubborn and protective over the ‘pack’ that he likely wouldn’t have if it weren’t for Epona. For a large part, he trusted her judgment. Most animals did have a keener sense for natural disasters, but she always seemed to have a good sense of character. Sure, it was odd enough she ate right out of your hand with a happy nicker, but she just really liked apples. She’s a horse, she’s easily bribed. But even then, he’s not sure how much bribing it would take for her to lay down and let you braid flowers through her freshly brushed mane. It was trust. From all the other times you did it absentmindedly —occasionally even to him— it seems her trust in character was still sharp.

Warriors was actually slightly embarrassed by how he came to remember. Dripping wet from the rain and favourite cloak littered with mud and holes, he was rather cranky. He got showered and changed —thank the three they were at an inn— and decided to leave the stained and worn clothes as a tomorrow problem. That was until his prized blanket scarf found its way into to your mits. He tried to snatch it back, earning some odd looks and the shutter of the sheikah slate. You were frustratingly difficult to catch. It seemed that hadn’t changed. When he was ultimately successful, however, he realised that you’d actually been making an incredibly successful job at washing and repairing it as you’d done thousands of times before. He remembers you my firelight, cobalt swathed over your lap as your needle glided through the fabric. He remembered trying to imitate your stitches. He remembered how he never quite got it right.

He let you finish working.

Four was having a crisis. Do not let his indifference fool you, this man is a wreck. Best believe that beyond his surprisingly stubborn stoicism, the colors are shaking each other by the shoulders and screaming. Red recognised you immediately. His heart was quite literally moulded after your soft words and carefully love, he couldn’t forget you so long as he had a soul. Green being the mediator between them all and heard his quiet utters. The most honest a man could be that his adoration was infectious. It was you who taught him who he was. Blue took a while. So strong-willed in his stance, the he forgot you were the one to teach him to take a stand. He forgot it was you who willed him to fight for what he loved. Vio fell last, what would you expect of the mind. He hardly noticed it. The way his thoughts timed to you, the way he sought your presence and craved your voice. It was you who taught them how to be separate and yet loved them wholly. And such loyalty could only be payed back.

Wind remembered you in fragments. He remembers his parent by oath, who shielded him from the vast world he was so desperate to see. He didn’t understand it at first. But loosing you, especially when his memory wasn’t fully gone like the others, was rough. He mourned and grieved, even if he didn’t realise it. He missed being cared for. Without the looming question of what favor needed done or when it would go away. He missed you. It took a while to heal. For him to feel ok trusting in people again, even eventually curling up next to Wars when he’d try to sleep. He felt guilty, as if he were betraying you when you dug up dead feelings. But it’s hard to be a rebellious rascal when your partner in crime is finally returned to you especially after you were concerned you killed them. It takes him a while to process your back, but he’s back at your side, tugging you along by the hand as he explains his next devious prank.

Hyrule remembers you through his magic. The way your heart stutters as he heals you is familiar, a beat he’s fallen asleep to many times before and the life within it is one he can’t help but feel… connected to. He keeps a close eye out, his ears wiggling at the familiar music of your laugh and his skin unfamiliar without your own to cradle it. You share a spirit with them, a bit of your soul and theirs and a small both of theirs in you. And yet his mind can’t call out to why. It keeps him awake, taunting at him. But he knows his soul yearns for the part with yours. He knows the rush of your blood and song of your soul. He knows he loves you. Even if he doesn’t get why.

Wild takes so long to remember you for exactly the reasons you’d expect. His mind hides away the most crucial parts of itself in plain sight, never to be noticed or recognized until the memories are far too warped and rotten to actually remember anything. Anything of note, that is. But for what it’s worth, he never really perceived you as a threat. You were homey and comfortable, a trait so unfamiliar to his life of travel, he didn’t care if it left a sword in his stomach. Besides, not any yiga could take on an act that long. He took off the cooked eggs and set them onto a separate plate as you sat quietly, Wind strewn over your torso. You hummed softly the same work song he’d sung for years. One for which he didn’t know the origin, not until hearing you for what felt like the first time again. He couldn’t help but hum along.

Sky was cursed to forget you.

I must preface because he is a lover boy first and hero second. He wouldn’t care who Demise was, nor his business, so long as you were safe and loved. He loved you more than each and every star in the sky. And he’d already began to start planning your home. He knew he loved you. He knew he was made to love you. And that was exactly why he was made to forget you. That loyalty was scary to the gods. That one would devote themselves to another for little more than love in return— Hylia could not risk her heroes to stray. But try as she might she couldn’t surpress you. Not when you were already married, souls intertwined through every timeline. Your role varied, a healer, a helping hand, a comfort, a home, a parent, a lover, a souse. But you were always someone to Link. No matter what the gods declared. He remembered you only after all the others had, but he’s alright with that.

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yourlocaltreesimp · 5 months

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Swooning series pt. 2

Apologies for the really long intro, there’s content here i swear. Have some selectively mute wild as a treat <3

PT 1

Wild

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

Through what few memories that Wild retained, his training stayed most clearly. Perhaps because it was so vigorous that it sunk its ways through the grooves in his brain. It proved useful knowing how to fight fresh out of the Shrine of Resurrection and was certainly a saving grace in multiple occasions, from earning rupees at small traveller‘s challenges or food from saving the wandering folk of his Hyrule, those days spent training as a knight were more useful than they initially let on. But there was one drawback that stuck, even as a century seeped past. He could not speak. At first it was for his integrity, to be seen as the hero he was meant to be. Not that he much enjoyed it when he first began training, he certainly didn’t feel like a hero, but if people felt more assured with his silence, then maybe he could fool himself that this was his role.

It first proved to truly be an issue when he joined the chain. Not knowing where he was or how he got there, he did a run through of his memories, faded as they were. But they were there. A boy looked down at him, in his younger teen years if he was pressed to guess. Wild had moved to stand despite the skull splitting headache and lingering ringing in his ear. One hundred years can’t fix everything, apparently. But the somewhat lax energy he had was offset by the ever so familiar feeling of the pricking of nerves. It seems there was more than just the one boy. In fact, there were seven others, each staring at him expectantly. And just like that, his throat seized so badly that breathing was difficult. He registered that someone asked him a question and stared blankly at the man who spoke, one eye bearing back into Wild‘s own. He raised shaky hands, trying in some way to communicate his situation of muteness only to cut himself short. The man had begun to sign. They were slightly different than the ones Wild were familiar with, but they would do.

It’d so long that he got comfortable with them, speaking occasionally. But you… you changed things. In many ways, he supposes. At first you were scary, unfamiliar and something entirely new. Like waking up from his 100 year sleep. You disoriented his mind and raptured his thoughts. It was jarring and yet something he didn’t want to surpress. And yet, you continued to catch his attention. You did not question that he did not speak, still finding ways to include him in your interactions. But the morning you greeted him with sign was perhaps the morning that he realised what his fixation on you meant. You were something he learned from readily, grew to respect and eventually love. Much like his own relation to his namesake. The wilds of his Hyrule were scary and unfamiliar, but with time became something that he learned from and adapted to, and now something he loves. But you were someone he wants to know. Not at surface level, but he wants to know you more than he knows of himself. He wants to know what drives you, what makes you precisely who you are. And maybe some small part of him wants you to know him. The scars, nightmares, trauma and every other thing he was told he shouldn’t be. You have his every thought and you hold his heart in your hands. He didn’t know how much he missed having this kind of love until you.

Goddesses, he’s grown weak.

But for you? That’s ok.

#linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader #link x you #link x reader #lu wildxreader #lu wild #fir’s library

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yourlocaltreesimp · 10 days

Note

Covering BOTW!Link in kisses pretty please (> <)

Yeah, I can do that!

I made this surprisingly angsty (though if you’re not new around here that may be less shocking) so be warned.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

For someone with such an utterly distinct lack of memory, Wild often found himself drowning within them. Fleeting snippets of vision or audio cut in and out, warped and distorted beyond anything he can truly grasp at. One second he’d be laughing alongside his brothers, but when his eyes blinked he’d be a century in the last. Oftentimes after the phantom arms of his previous life embraced him, he felt less than who he was before. his smiles dulled and heart weighed down. As if knowing more about who he was then made him less of who he was now. As if the two sentiences couldn’t coexist.

It was a quiet night, humid with the onset of summer. The fireflies —lightning bugs as Twilight called them— dancing lofty paths amidst the air. Sat side by side, the champion absorbed the fable. At first it seemed rather childish, the idea of two wolves within oneself fighting to make the forefront. But the longer he went on the more it resonated. The mental image as one sneers and snaps, barring its ugly teeth in unwavering violent truth. All while the other dodges and uses the violent’s strength against itself, all while denying its own violent nature.

Allegorically it was good versus bad, overindulgence against suppression. The idea that to overindulge, to snap, to be reckless would lead to being taken advantage of. Wild knew why Twilight thought the story relevant to him. He knew that whenever he’d turn his back on his enemies to support that it wasn’t viewed as loyalty. He knew that there was lots to lose, and they couldn’t afford another injury. He knew Twi didn’t want to see him fall into a similar circumstance. But he knew he couldn’t afford to fail again. He couldn’t fall short. He can’t lose someone close again.

Where externally he was viewed as the former, he internally found himself in the latter of cases. He fought the battle between the whispers of the others in contrast to his own thoughts of himself. Left with the residual pressure to be nothing short of perfect, to be The Hero of Time, to be worthy of the title and the land and the fate and the soul. The yearning to simply live and be without the burden of his own guilt, to be Link, to be your lover and accept the love without feeling indebted.

He didn’t realise Twilight had left.

His head swims and he feels clammy as he curls up, deciding aimlessly that it’s time to sleep. His feet lead him inside his house and he can hardly even stumble up the loft. Someone else can sort dinner.

Any sense of sensibility is muddled and mixed. Time does not matter, nor the relevancy if his mind.

He stares back at the shards of his past life, his chipped reflection in each mirror, and can’t help but wonder who he’d be if he were just Link.

Or would he be even anything at all if not a hero?

What was it that he truly was?

Mipha had written that he was a rather rowdy child, eager to take on the world with nothing more than a stick in hand. Then, he held no care for being proper. Wide grin and leaves in his hair, he was happy. Perhaps that was the most of himself he could ever be. Perhaps that was the reason he finds himself wandering aimlessly now. Perhaps that is his nature.

The records of many soldiers he fought alongside depicted him as the prime standard of the military. Those days were cold, and he just remembered how much he hurt. The ache of every muscle and bruise, every drill, every spar, every battle, every day spent alive that was spent suffering. His ability to cut down any monster or man with any weapon. His instinct and ability to hurt was primed until he now questions if that little boy who splashed around in rivers and threw handfuls of mud had retreated into the cold hands of death. The soldiers’ mirage of him is idyllic, but holds distressingly true to his own memory.

Perhaps that is why his mind is clear and quiet with weapon in hand and a body beneath his feet.

He dreams of musty stables and bare campgrounds, both places the since passed versions of himself would’ve spent a night at. The smell of dirt and dust is accompanied by the crackle of a fire as drunken men sing out of tune.

The littlest curled up as his teeth chattered, the chipped tooth whistling as he exhaled. A warm hand settles on his shoulders as his father drapes another thin blanket over him. He does not yet know this means his father will go without warmth.

The soldier tossing and turning, unable to relax even long enough to sleep. He too his tormented by the potential of falling. He does not yet know what’s to come. He does not yet know there’s nothing to be done.

The scene shifts and he is at the castle. It’s his first time and his eyes shine as he follows his father closely, following hot on his feet with a giddy grin.

It is his home. His work. His life. He follows the princess closely, just far enough to not make himself overbearing. He does not smile. He does not frown. He does not fail.

The colours fade and mix and blur, the dreamscape shifting oncemore. It’s raining. It pitters across his shoulders as he kicks up the puddles, scaring the stray cuccos from the stable not too far away. His father fusses over the sword he’d found, and he can hardly muster the strength to swing it against the base of the apple tree. He results in climbing up the twisted limbs, collecting extra ripe apples to ease his father’s worries. The wet bark gives no grip to his feet and he falls to the ground, winded next to the funny blue sword. It glints and chirps and when he catches his breath he laughs back.

It’s storming. The grass smells wet and irony. The bloody mud cakes his boots as his foot falls brace against the ground. His arms lock as he flings his shield to the side, the guardian falling to disrepair. His shield lay broken. He can see his strained face in the dirty reflection. He doesn’t like the man staring back. The rain pelts across his back and the lightning shakes the ground. His muffled ears pick up Zelda’s distress as another guardian climbs up the mound of soul. He draws his sword. He didn’t even know if it were possible to deflect a guardian laser with a blade. But he can’t fail now. Not after everything. A flash of blue light overtakes his vision as his limbs slacken.

He shoots awake with a familiar tightness in his chest, his scars itching and burning. He writhes beneath his own skin as he kicks the covers off, the cold air seizing him. His lungs struggle to draw breath as he wheezes. His vision tunnels and it feels as if he’s dying again.

Why can’t it just be over.

When will he finally be enough— if not for the sake of the world then to at least save himself?

Or maybe he doesn’t deserve to be saved. He couldn’t save all those innocent people. Castle town, Deya, Lon Lon? Who was he to demand he was worth saving?

He hacks and coughs before even trying to look at his surroundings. Through the mixed screaming within his mind he gathers a few realisations. He’s alive. He’s home. You’re curled up beside him, reaching for his warmth. His hands tremble as they reach towards his uneven hairline, grabbing a fistful and tugging. The pain stings, he feels more than awake as his heart races.

“Mm- Link?” You mumbled against his side, awoken by the cold lack of covers. Guilt fills his throat again until he can’t breathe. He’s supposed to help you, to love you, to be of use. Not be such a burden. But here he is again, making it about him. Making your life worse and demanding comfort like a child.

“Heyheyhey- It’s ok, you’re safe” Your voice was as soft and gentle as your touch as you cradled his cheek. He didn’t even realise he was crying. Why was he crying? Who’d want a hero who cries like a coward in the face of a danger that isn’t even real? You collect his hands together, loosening his grip from his hair and running your thumbs across his knuckles. His head stirs as you speak, and he can’t make out anything of what you are saying. His ears ring, more than usual, drowning out any sound.

“Breathe with me, ok?” He nods weakly after you repeat yourself for the third or fourth time. He tries his best, his ribs shuddering before he could fully breathe in, but no longer deprived of oxygen, his head stops swimming as much.

It’s a while of sitting there, hands in your lap as you calm him down in whatever way he quietly requests. It’s so odd. Being raised to serve and to give and being taught through experience that your worth lies in your deeds… to suddenly being the one catered to. It still feels as if asking to be loved is forbidden. That his purpose comes before all requirement and survival. Somedays it still feels like death would come before he would be comfortable. But it took many long nights and longer days spent having uncomfortable conversations before he realised he still had a chance, only if he chose to make one for himself.

At some point he lets himself settle. He sinks into the now cool mattress as you stare into his eyes. He feels a flicker of shame before your hands are back on his jaw and you're pressing light kisses to his skin. Both temples, forehead, each freckle on the apple of his cheeks, crooked nose, the tip of his burn scar, the cut in his chin. You pull back for a moment to admire what you’ve made of him through the years. He smiles, lopsided and as giddy as he was in childhood. You press an eager kiss to his lips, giggling throughout.

He may be lost within the maze of his own mind, a man held hostage to himself, but despite being a failure by his own previous standards, it doesn’t matter so long as he’s enough for you.

#firreplies #linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #link x reader #linked universe x reader #link x you #x reader #lu wildxreader #lu wild #yes i got inspo for his panic attack by my own #no i’m not ok #yes they do hurt #no i’m not in therapy #do any of you read these?#if you do you get a gold star #⭐️

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yourlocaltreesimp · 3 months

Text

Valentine’s Special: Wild

Yeah!!! Two down, 16 more to go. No TW, hope yall enjoy!

۵♡۵

Wild

Valentine’s spent in or out on the town?

He’d definitely prefer staying in with you as opposed to going out. Now of course, we must take into consideration that this is the Hero of the Wilds we’re talking about and he most certainly has a list of places that are absolutely stunning for a picnic date. You won’t be ‘in’ so much as being inside, He just prefers to not make a whole big affair out of his love for you.

He’d spend days -maybe months- in advance gathering your favourite foods and meal prepping exactly for valentine’s. He’d take many trips and photos of each location of Hyrule and narrow it down to whichever one he believes you’d have the most fun and enjoy yourself.

The picnic may extend into a whole camping trip/expedition/quest/adventure but you’ll hardly notice the days bleed into one another with the endless entertainment he brings. Afterall, he did pick out a place not only for scenery, but where his beloved would enjoy the most. He’d find a place in Eldin if that’s where you’d most enjoy.

I could see him making you jewellery with stones he mined. Taking a few lessons from the jeweller in Gerudo town on the weekends is surprisingly manageable.

I don’t see him as the type to enjoy Valentine’s until he meets you. It just made him sad about his life before, what he’d lost, what he could never return to. But it’s you who teaches him that there’s more to love than idolization, that it’s something far softer and fragile that it’s no wonder people made a holiday to fawn over it.

He’s a bit emotionally dense so good luck ig!

۵♡۵

The cabin was by no means luxurious, it’s wooden beams dipping inward with the weight of itself and the cold of Hebra slipped through the cracks. The wind whistled within the cracks of the wooden walls, blending in with the ambience of the fire crackling away within its hearth. You sat on the counter as Link finished up lunch— a hearty stew to replenish your energy from hiking all the way up here with him. He beamed, handing you a bowl and sliding up onto the counter next to you, watching eagerly to see your opinions. Though to the world he held up the character of indifference for the sake of strength, for you he was worlds away from such a standard. You hummed in contentment with the warmth that came with the meal he presented to you, and his eyes lit up even more. To him, you were his heart. You were the source of all the feelings he was taught to suppress and still, you drew them out of him. He owes every daring grin and glower in anger to you. You who taught him not how to feel —such a thing is innate to most people— but how to accept what he feels. To read them.

“Hey… do you wanna go shield surfing after this?” But maybe that was just because you knew how to read him.

#linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #link x reader #linked universe x reader #link x you #x reader #lu wildxreader #lu wild #botw!link #botw link #botw linkxreader #fir’s library

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yourlocaltreesimp · 7 months

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Wild: I'm sorry, Y/N.

Y/N: No, don't apologize. I like taking care of you.

۵♡۵

Small TW: Depictions of injury, Hurt/comfort

It wasn’t often the chain was split. It went against the whole idea of them being together- safety, familiarity. And especially since you joined, they made careful surety that no one was left behind. But things don’t always go as you hope. The onslaught of arrows from the tree line was unexpected, but manageable. They were haphazardly shot from poor quality bows, their shots missing most. Most. You were busy trying to not have your skull split open that the arrows digging into the mud weren’t concerning to your mind. But in a moment of panic -of sheer horror that he might loose one more friend- Wild sprinted to get you out of the way, his side slamming into yours as he slid on the mud. The arrow ripping through his flesh occupied more of your mind than the monsters that ambushed the battlefield. And in your panic, you ran. All you could see was that deep, irony red staining the champion’s tunic, the rain letting his blood sleep into the fabric. His breathing was ragged has you ran, another arrow embedded between his ribs.

You didn’t care where you were running towards, how fast you ran or how the cries of battle faded into obscurity. You just kept running.

“y/n” You heard Wild whisper weakly behind you as you hastily made your way through the thick woods. Your clothes were soaked through as the storm grew overhead.

“y/n” He weakly pleaded with you to slow, to calm your racing heart. He didn’t need to see your face to know you were blaming yourself, that you were just as deep within your own mind as he had been. He wrapped his second arm around you as best he could, slowing you to a walk. The surrounding forest was unfamiliar. You turned to face him, but we’re not met with a stern stare. Instead, his eyes were soft, eyebrows creased in concern. “I-“ He coughs, letting go of you to cover his mouth as he sputters “I saw a cave back there- We should stay there until the group finds us” His voice, though weak and a little shaky, was stronger than you’d thought it’d have been. You let him lead you through the bushes and trees to a small gap in the rock face. He practically collapsed as soo as you stopped moving, laying on the ground with strained breathing. Your hands shook as you made the fire as he taught you a week before, the cold taking to your skin. You were scared, you’d admit. But your mind stilled when you’ll saw him in pain, someone you knew to be so strong, writhing. Yes, you were scared, but you felt as if that was beyond you. Between what you and Wild had, you reckoned you didn’t have much to go off. A few rolls of bandages, a canteen of clean enough water and a single red potion. Not ideal, but doable. You crouched at his side, carefully sitting him against the wall of the cave and close enough to the fire to warm. You waited until the colour returned to his face before you made any attempt at disturbing him.

“Wild?” His eyes were fixed to the wall, blank in whatever thoughts drifted through his mind. None of which were good. How could he have been so careless? His breathing shuttered, but aside from that, he was totally, utterly still. He should’ve known better.

He should’ve been better, for you.

“Link?” His eyes dart to yours quickly, widening. He tries to shuffle back into the wall, to no avail. He leans into the wall after recognising where he is, that he’s safe. “I have to get the arrows out, is that ok?” You do t get a response, so you carefully move closer, sitting in front of him so he can see your hands. They pity you. They think you’re weak. You see him shutter. You can only hope it’s from the chill. You snap the shaft of each arrow as close to the head as you can, trying your hardest to avoid ripping the skin. He hardly flinches, and your heart aches slightly. How common was this? How often did he do this alone? You place the broken wood next to you, assessing what must be done next. “Do you mind if I take look at your wounds?” You whisper so carefully, a tone he’s never been regarded with. A tone he doesn’t deserve. He’s supposed to be the hero. He’s supposed to make things better. He peels his wet clothes from his body, retaining the same panicked blankness in his eyes. He refuses to look at you as he does so. Why see your judgement? His torso is covered in many faded scars of different lengths, arrow wounds, thin slashes, old scars, new lines, and the large burn of a guardian laser, wrapping around his torso like lightning. It ls so oddly beautiful you can’t help but stare for a moment. They’re staring. Why wouldn’t they when he looks like this? You move your hands to grip the arrow head in his shoulder firmly. “Breathe in for me” He does so, a shuddering inhale. And as he slowly releases the air from his lungs, you rip it out. He hisses, flinching. You pour some water on it and wrap it in a bandage to stop the bleeding. You stop yourself from kissing it when you’re finished. You grip the arrow in his side and he tenses immediately. “Just breathe, I’ve got you” He follows your instructions, you let him draw as many breaths as he needs before the muscles around the arrowhead relax. You tug it out and follow the same process, cleaning the wound with what little you have before wrapping it up. You hand him the red potion, disregarding the captivated stare he gives you.

“I- I’m so sorry.” His voice is stronger than it was, the same you remember it being. You’re so caught in him speaking, you hardly miss the words.

“For what?” The confusion in your tone is clear and his bitter self hatred bleeds into his words before he can stop himself.

“For having to take care of me. I’m supposed to be better than this. How am I supposed to be a hero if I can’t take a few arrows. It’s pathetic. I’m-“

“Link” You cut his ramble short. He sighs, sinking further back into the rock. “If the hero cant be cared for, then I don’t need you to be. I just want you safe.” Your words are some he wished he could’ve heard earlier, from anyone. But hearing them from you, he thinks, is even more of a blessing. You sit next to him, leaning against his shoulder. “And besides, I like taking care of you anyway. After what I know you’ve been through? You deserve to be cared for every now and then” You let your eyes close, enjoying the warmth of the fire in front of you. The silence between you is calm, the fire pops and the rain still pelts the ground outside, but your content not speaking.

“Really?” His voice is quiet and fragile, the murmur of someone finding a hope long snuffed out

“Really.”

#submission #firreplies #linked universe #legend of zelda #linkeduniverse #link x reader #linked universe x reader #link x you #x reader #loz breath of the wild #botw!link #breath of the wild #lu wild #lu wildxreader #fir’s library

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