skyward-floored

[skyward-floored]

@silvrash-797 This was funnnn >:D

Fics for context if you need it: the fight in question and who exactly this is

(Lil tw for a discussion of death and what could be read as suicide ideation)

Lost masterpost

————————————————————

The curse has nearly won.

There’s darkness raging all around him now, howling like a hurricane with him at the eye, burrowed so deep into Link its almost broken his spirit, turned him permanently into a servant of shadows.

But not yet.

The hero’s spirit tears through the darkness with a shining blade, his appearance beaten and battered. He doesn’t falter, even though there’s shadows swirling around him like living oil, tearing at the fabric of their strange plane of existence, screaming with hatred as it rages against him again and again and again.

He knows there will reach a point where he can’t resist anymore. When Link will finally falter, when darkness will find whatever cracks are there in his battered defenses and rush to fill them in, hollowing him out into a true shell with no hope of restoration.

But hopefully that point will never be reached. If... no, when the princess succeeds, it will be prevented. Link will be okay.

And Courage will fight in every battle the darkness tries to best him in.

It’s an endless dance, this fight. The shadows do wax and wane, but their slower periods have grown fewer and farther between, barely granting Link a moment’s respite, his spirit fighting endlessly to keep him from falling over the cliff he’s perched on.

Even though it’s the worst its ever been, he does not falter. Even when something cracks dangerously, he keeps striking back against the darkness, shouting in defiance, fighting desperately to protect the last vestige of light inside.

Link cannot be lost.

The darkness crowds out more light by the second, making the spirit’s legs shake, his sword wavering. Soon there’s only a spot barely big enough for him to stand left that’s not in shadow, and he slashes at it with a cry, refusing to stop, refusing to quit, even when it presses against him and twists around and constricts like a snake, greedily draining the light from him.

But then there’s a touch of magic.

He feels it, in that strange sense he has of Link’s greater self. That flicker he’s gotten only on occasions when Zelda finds Link and they fight each other, pain and heartbreak always fast to follow.

But this time it’s more determined. Focused. Nothing’s changed yet, darkness and shadow still eating away at him, but there’s a heavy feel, an expectant feel, like lightning about to strike.

Other magic is at work as well, one that works to contain and weaken, to prime the darkness for elimination, and the spirit violently struggles against the shadows even though moving is almost impossible. This is it. This must be their attempt.

They’re trying to free Link.

Something changes in the fight, the darkness pausing, as it were. That still feeling reaches the air again, and the shadows screech, turning on him with a newfound ferocity.

The spirit can barely fight back, surrounded on all sides, but he can tell this attack is more panicked, like the thrashing of an animal that knows its about to die. It’s difficult to counter, and he’s struck once, twice, more times then he can count, the tide overwhelming in its destruction.

He’s forced down, panic pounding, fear growing. He needs to hold on, just a little longer.

But the darkness creeps across him like a shroud and resumes its meal, draining the light and further wearing him down, wearing him away, warping the spirit that was forged in so much light and strength and crushing it into shadowed pieces.

There’s a scream. He doesn’t know where it comes from. The darkness muffles it and tears him away from thinking and he cries out an apology to Link and the one who made them.

But then there’s something.

Something that isn’t dark. Something warm.

Something healing.

There’s a light, one that peeks through the shadows like the sun behind a cloud. A golden hand stretches through, shining as bright as day through the shadows that scream at its touch, and Courage shouts, using the last of his strength to reach forward and take it.

Magic as familiar and warm as an embrace breezes past him, singing birdsong and healing and pure, golden, goddess-born light.

It’s not gentle. It comes with the intensity of an ocean, vast and boundless, rushing upon the shadows with a vengeance so hot it burns. They howl as they’re burned away by the searing light, and all he can do is curl up and try to protect what he is, let it purge the shadows and hopefully not take him with it.

Wave after wave of light rushes through Link, the darkness clawing and desperately trying to maintain its foothold. But nothing can stand against Hylia’s descendant, and though it’s agony as it’s torn away, the shadows lose their grip.

Finally it ends. And the darkness is gone.

The spirit carefully uncurls, still holding tight to his blade, and sits up and looks around. The water that makes up the ground is still, not so much as a ripple to disturb. The sky is a pale color that mirrors the appearance of dawn, before the sun is up, but after the light has begun to color the earth.

And suddenly Link sits there on the ground, on the water that isn’t wet, and stares up at that sky with tears on his face.

His spirit watches him a moment, proud and joyful and grieved. They’re on another precipice now. The darkness is gone, but the fight it left behind will not be easy.

Link doesn’t move, tears still falling, and so his spirit steps over to him, getting to his knees beside him and sitting.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” Link finally says, voice quiet and thick.

“No,” Courage answers. “Not really. You’re more... in between. You’re adjusting to the shift, and the abrupt purge of magic. It was a lot of strain. Currently, you are not dead. You could go either way, though.”

Link lets out a sniffly laugh, wrapping his arms around himself. “I’m fine with that. Maybe if I go I can finally rest. It’d be nice to see mother again.”

Courage hums. “Is that the only thing you want? Rest?”

Link is silent a moment, wiping his sleeve over his face. “I’m no longer a threat. Zelda did it. I’m finally done, he can’t use me to hurt anyone or anything else, I... want to rest.”

Courage watches him intently. “You would leave her?”

Link pauses, neck bobbing.

“Hmm. There’s a lot left for you here, little brother. And more yet to do. Staying will be hard, I won’t lie, but there are many who want and need you here.”

Link closes his eyes. “I don’t know if I want to go back.”

Courage takes his shoulder, lightly rubbing. “We both know you do. This fight isn’t over— your kingdom is not yet free. You know the need to stop your tormentor. And you have people waiting for you, little brother. People who will be devastated if you leave.”

Link lowers his head, lip trembling, and Courage embraces him, trying to reassure as much as he can.

“Go back, Link,” he whispers, lightly running a hand over his head when his breath hitches. “Go back for her.”

Link sniffles, a tear dripping off his chin, but finally he nods, and his spirit pulls back so he can properly look at him.

“The fight isn’t done. But you have many allies, and Zelda on your side. I know you can triumph,” he reassures as he gently thumbs away the tears. “Now go back, Link.”

Link nods again, eyes still teary and figure broken and exhausted, but with a faint flicker of hope hiding in his eyes.

Then he’s gone, and Courage smiles, enjoying the sight of the sun rising up into the dawn.

[skyward-floored]

@silvrash-797 This was funnnn >:D

Fics for context if you need it: the fight in question and who exactly this is

(Lil tw for a discussion of death and what could be read as suicide ideation)

Lost masterpost

————————————————————

The curse has nearly won.

There’s darkness raging all around him now, howling like a hurricane with him at the eye, burrowed so deep into Link its almost broken his spirit, turned him permanently into a servant of shadows.

But not yet.

The hero’s spirit tears through the darkness with a shining blade, his appearance beaten and battered. He doesn’t falter, even though there’s shadows swirling around him like living oil, tearing at the fabric of their strange plane of existence, screaming with hatred as it rages against him again and again and again.

He knows there will reach a point where he can’t resist anymore. When Link will finally falter, when darkness will find whatever cracks are there in his battered defenses and rush to fill them in, hollowing him out into a true shell with no hope of restoration.

But hopefully that point will never be reached. If... no, when the princess succeeds, it will be prevented. Link will be okay.

And Courage will fight in every battle the darkness tries to best him in.

It’s an endless dance, this fight. The shadows do wax and wane, but their slower periods have grown fewer and farther between, barely granting Link a moment’s respite, his spirit fighting endlessly to keep him from falling over the cliff he’s perched on.

Even though it’s the worst its ever been, he does not falter. Even when something cracks dangerously, he keeps striking back against the darkness, shouting in defiance, fighting desperately to protect the last vestige of light inside.

Link cannot be lost.

The darkness crowds out more light by the second, making the spirit’s legs shake, his sword wavering. Soon there’s only a spot barely big enough for him to stand left that’s not in shadow, and he slashes at it with a cry, refusing to stop, refusing to quit, even when it presses against him and twists around and constricts like a snake, greedily draining the light from him.

But then there’s a touch of magic.

He feels it, in that strange sense he has of Link’s greater self. That flicker he’s gotten only on occasions when Zelda finds Link and they fight each other, pain and heartbreak always fast to follow.

But this time it’s more determined. Focused. Nothing’s changed yet, darkness and shadow still eating away at him, but there’s a heavy feel, an expectant feel, like lightning about to strike.

Other magic is at work as well, one that works to contain and weaken, to prime the darkness for elimination, and the spirit violently struggles against the shadows even though moving is almost impossible. This is it. This must be their attempt.

They’re trying to free Link.

Something changes in the fight, the darkness pausing, as it were. That still feeling reaches the air again, and the shadows screech, turning on him with a newfound ferocity.

The spirit can barely fight back, surrounded on all sides, but he can tell this attack is more panicked, like the thrashing of an animal that knows its about to die. It’s difficult to counter, and he’s struck once, twice, more times then he can count, the tide overwhelming in its destruction.

He’s forced down, panic pounding, fear growing. He needs to hold on, just a little longer.

But the darkness creeps across him like a shroud and resumes its meal, draining the light and further wearing him down, wearing him away, warping the spirit that was forged in so much light and strength and crushing it into shadowed pieces.

There’s a scream. He doesn’t know where it comes from. The darkness muffles it and tears him away from thinking and he cries out an apology to Link and the one who made them.

But then there’s something.

Something that isn’t dark. Something warm.

Something healing.

There’s a light, one that peeks through the shadows like the sun behind a cloud. A golden hand stretches through, shining as bright as day through the shadows that scream at its touch, and Courage shouts, using the last of his strength to reach forward and take it.

Magic as familiar and warm as an embrace breezes past him, singing birdsong and healing and pure, golden, goddess-born light.

It’s not gentle. It comes with the intensity of an ocean, vast and boundless, rushing upon the shadows with a vengeance so hot it burns. They howl as they’re burned away by the searing light, and all he can do is curl up and try to protect what he is, let it purge the shadows and hopefully not take him with it.

Wave after wave of light rushes through Link, the darkness clawing and desperately trying to maintain its foothold. But nothing can stand against Hylia’s descendant, and though it’s agony as it’s torn away, the shadows lose their grip.

Finally it ends. And the darkness is gone.

The spirit carefully uncurls, still holding tight to his blade, and sits up and looks around. The water that makes up the ground is still, not so much as a ripple to disturb. The sky is a pale color that mirrors the appearance of dawn, before the sun is up, but after the light has begun to color the earth.

And suddenly Link sits there on the ground, on the water that isn’t wet, and stares up at that sky with tears on his face.

His spirit watches him a moment, proud and joyful and grieved. They’re on another precipice now. The darkness is gone, but the fight it left behind will not be easy.

Link doesn’t move, tears still falling, and so his spirit steps over to him, getting to his knees beside him and sitting.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” Link finally says, voice quiet and thick.

“No,” Courage answers. “Not really. You’re more... in between. You’re adjusting to the shift, and the abrupt purge of magic. It was a lot of strain. Currently, you are not dead. You could go either way, though.”

Link lets out a sniffly laugh, wrapping his arms around himself. “I’m fine with that. Maybe if I go I can finally rest. It’d be nice to see mother again.”

Courage hums. “Is that the only thing you want? Rest?”

Link is silent a moment, wiping his sleeve over his face. “I’m no longer a threat. Zelda did it. I’m finally done, he can’t use me to hurt anyone or anything else, I... want to rest.”

Courage watches him intently. “You would leave her?”

Link pauses, neck bobbing.

“Hmm. There’s a lot left for you here, little brother. And more yet to do. Staying will be hard, I won’t lie, but there are many who want and need you here.”

Link closes his eyes. “I don’t know if I want to go back.”

Courage takes his shoulder, lightly rubbing. “We both know you do. This fight isn’t over— your kingdom is not yet free. You know the need to stop your tormentor. And you have people waiting for you, little brother. People who will be devastated if you leave.”

Link lowers his head, lip trembling, and Courage embraces him, trying to reassure as much as he can.

“Go back, Link,” he whispers, lightly running a hand over his head when his breath hitches. “Go back for her.”

Link sniffles, a tear dripping off his chin, but finally he nods, and his spirit pulls back so he can properly look at him.

“The fight isn’t done. But you have many allies, and Zelda on your side. I know you can triumph,” he reassures as he gently thumbs away the tears. “Now go back, Link.”

Link nods again, eyes still teary and figure broken and exhausted, but with a faint flicker of hope hiding in his eyes.

Then he’s gone, and Courage smiles, enjoying the sight of the sun rising up into the dawn.

[skyward-floored]

May I just complain that I woke up at 6:10 this morning to take pictures of the sunrise and when I get out there my mom is already out there and apparently the colors had been really good like. Ten minutes before.

Like I got some nice pictures but aaaaaaaaaugh I missed the PINK

[skyward-floored]

For the writing prompt a thon, could you do Wind finally graduating from med school and like all the chain is there celebrating with him, in your healthcare au? If you'd prefer to do angst over fluff, you could do Warriors being drunk and Legend helping him out, and Wars says some things about his past that are not so pleasant memories.... :)

Telma’s was bustling as usual as Legend sifted through the crowd, trying to find his wayward charge. On a gloomy, rainy night like this he honestly could just sleep and flip his sleep schedule back to a normal person’s day cycle, but instead he found himself playing designated driver for Warriors.

It wasn’t surprising, really. The entire department had planned multiple nights (and mornings for the night shifters) where they could get together and drink. Emergency personnel, both in and out of the hospital, tended to party just as hard as they worked. Legend was even fine with a drink or two, but he had a sinking suspicion that when Warriors asked him to be his DD, he should probably just be entirely sober.

He did manage to sneak a few sips off his friend’s drinks, though. But heaven above, by the fifth shot Legend had started making hand signs to Telma that Wars needed to stop. The fact that he hadn’t quite figured out yet that she was serving him flavored water at this point was telling enough.

Warriors laughed alongside their coworkers as someone told a joke, and Legend put a hand to his friend’s back as he approached him, helping him not topple out of his seat. One of their coworkers was eying the former military nurse, cheeks flushed with alcohol and eyes alight with… other desires. Legend watched her warily – although she was decent enough sober, alcohol had a tendency of bringing out everyone’s worst desires.

“Why don’t we head out?” he suggested to his friend, hand still steady on his back.

“Pff, Ledge, where’s your sense of fun, the party’s jus’ starting!” Warriors argued with a careless wave of his hand. “Dude, you should drink more!”

“Yeah, we’re just getting into stupidest shit you’ve seen patients do,” another coworker said cheerily.

“Okay, but somebody’s gotta have a good accidentally fell on this story,” someone else noted.

“I mean, there’s always the tried and true Darwin awards,” another nurse said. “I had a guy who thought he could hold a firework in his a—”

“HA!” the others immediately burst out laughing, but Warriors just rolled his eyes.

“Freaking people putting explosives in body parts,” he grumbled, downing the last of his actual drink. “We should put those morons out on the battlefield since they’re so fucking eager to get blown up.”

Although Legend heard him and pinched the back of his shirt in response, the others didn’t seem to notice, continuing their tales of fools they’d seen in the ED. “Hey. Let’s go, Wars. You’ve had plenty to drink.”

“Why are you trying to ruin the fun?” Warriors snapped, turning sharply towards him before sighing. “Relax, buddy.”

Legend resigned himself to being stuck here, and plopped down beside his friend, growing steadily grumpier about it. He tried engaging in some of the conversations, and even managed to get some solid belly laughs out of the different stories, but eventually his anxiety overran his enjoyment as he Warriors and others grew steadily rowdier. The one coworker who had been eying him earlier sat closer to him as some left, and Legend finally stood up as she started getting handsy with his friend.

“We’re leaving,” he immediately said, voice heavy.

Warriors didn’t respond well to that. “Oh, you in command now? I don’t take orders from you, Ledge. If you wanna leave, then leave.”

“I’m your designated driver, asshole,” Legend snapped. “When I say it’s time to go, then it is.”

“I’ll get a cab,” Warriors argued, glaring.

Legend wanted to punch him. He was trying to help this idiot. This was why he hated watching people get drunk, the fun eventually devolved into idiocy.

He didn’t need to make a scene, though, so he had to figure out a different way of doing this. Butting heads with his friend was usually his way to go, but perhaps a different approach…

What would Sky do?

Oh, he knew exactly what that airhead would do. He’d play the sympathy card. Sky was surprisingly sneaky about that; the pilot seemed to be okay with leading people on if he thought it was necessary.

“I don’t feel good,” Legend said, growing even more annoyed that he had to say such a thing.

But if it worked…

“Ah, well shit man,” Warriors said, tone softening immediately. “Go home, then. Feel better, okay?”

Ugh.

Legend shifted, wondering how the heck he could sell this. “Look, I… I don’t feel good and I think having you around might help. Please?”

His friend remained quiet for a moment, eyes glazed and cheeks flushed, before he groaned. “Oh my gosh, fine. Can’t have one damn night to just have fun and cut loose, gotta take care of people all the fucking time…”

Legend hid his smile. “Whine all you want, you know you like helping people.”

Warriors trilled his lips, stumbling to his feet. Legend immediately reached out to steady him. “C’mon, stupid, let’s go.”

Legend wasn’t much for prayers but he threw a thank you up to the ceiling anyway. He nearly had to drag the other nurse out of the tavern as they kept bumping into people and Warriors would stop to chat and smile at a flirtatious remark, enjoying all the attention.

“You’re ridiculous,” Legend grumbled as they finally reached the car. “Maybe I should’ve left you with Mara, she would’ve definitely had her way with you.”

“Ya think?” Warriors asked with a chuckle. “Fuck, I’ve had enough of that nonsense. Cia won’t stop her stupid shit. Maybe… you think someday we might find some ladies that are… I dunno, we might find our Malons or something?”

“Uh…” Legend trailed off awkwardly, starting the engine and looking over at his friend. “Buckle up.”

Warriors rolled his eyes. “Always avoiding things, man! C’mon, I probably won’t remember any of this anyway!”

“I’m not looking for romance, okay?” Legend snapped irritably, watching Warriors struggle with the seat belt for a few seconds before finally clicking it in place.

“Why not? Might make you less of an ass.”

Legend gripped the steering wheel more tightly, glaring at the road. “I should just leave you on the curb.”

Warriors laughed. Then he groaned. “Ugh, wait, I don’t feel so good.”

“Oh no, you are not throwing up in my car!” Legend yelled, putting the car back in break and unfastening Warriors’ seatbelt. “Out!”

His friend leaned over, opening the door, and promptly vomited. At least it mostly landed on the pavement.

Mostly.

Growling, Legend stomped around to the other side, grabbing napkins he had stored in the center console and cursing his friend in every language he knew.

“Why do you have to get so drunk?” he complained. “Why can’t you just leave at being buzzed, have some fun and some laughs and stop?”

“I don’t want to feel anything,” Warriors muttered, leaning against the door post.

Legend exhaled sharply, biting his lip and pausing from cleaning up the mess. Then he looked up at his friend, whose expression was suddenly far more exhausted and somber.

“Well, that’s stupid,” he said.

Warriors chuckled again. “I know.”

The two looked at each other for far too long, and Legend quickly went back to cleaning up. When he was finished, he tossed the napkins, pushed Warriors back into the car and buckled him up, and went back to the driver’s side. They sat in silence for a moment as rain started to drizzle on the windshield.

“You know you can try just… talking about whatever bothers you,” Legend pointed out in a gentler tone. “Rather than killing your liver to make it go away.”

“Please, like either of us are gonna live long, anyway.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“You work night shift, Ledge, that shaves decades off your life.”

Legend huffed, putting the car in drive. “I don’t purposefully try to kill myself, though.”

“Fuck, Ledge, neither do I!” Warriors laughed. “This ain’t that bad. I just like to forget.”

“Forget what?” Legend pressed.

Wars didn’t say anything for a while before muttering, “Everything. Just… everything.”

“Was it the fighting itself?”

“Fuckin’ sucked,” he laughed.

Legend paused before asking more gently, “Did you… did you lose anyone?”

Warriors lolled his head to the side to eye him dully. “Really? You’re asking a war veteran if he lost anyone?”

“Well, I imagine that’s partly what you’re avoiding!” Legend explained defensively. When they stopped at a traffic light, he took hold of his resolve, turning to face him fully. “Look, I… I lost someone too, okay? But I… I talked about it. With someone. And it… it still hurts, it hurts more than I can put in words but I’m not trying to hurt myself to get rid of it, you know? I’ve got enough pain as it is, I don’t need to add to it.”

“Who’d you lose?” Warriors asked quietly.

The light turned green, and Legend looked away. “This isn’t about me.”

“You want me to talk but you won’t,” Warriors grumbled. “I’m fucking drunk and even I know that’s stupid.”

“Fine!” Legend snapped. “Fine. I lost… she was… she was important to me. We were… close. Like… like really close, and… there was a terrible accident with the ship we were on, and people were injured and I had to triage, and she… I never even realized until it was too late…”

Legend felt his eyes sting and his throat tighten. “I… I could save everyone but her.”

They reached the highway, and Legend turned left, swallowing hard.

Warriors simply said, “I’m sorry, man.”

Then he droned out, “Maaaan, why do we all gotta have sucky love lives, huh? My girlfriend died too.”

Oh, boy. Now we’re getting into it. But at least it took the heat off him, distracting him. He could focus on others just fine. “Sorry to hear that. Really.”

“Lana was the best,” Warriors said, and the alcohol absolutely prevented his ability to usually stay stoic about things. Legend heard his voice wobble, heard him sniffle. “We had a tight group in the war, you know? And—and Lana was… fuck, man I miss her.”

“It’s a shitty thing to have in common,” Legend sighed.

“You know what really sucks?” Warriors continued, oblivious to the route Legend was taking. “There were two of them, in that group. Lana I got to know first, and we were real tight. Zelda came later, she was super off-putting and stuff at first, but then she warmed up to us and was awesome. But I… kinda liked her too. But Lana was my girl and I loved Lana. Couldn’t look Zelda in the eye after Lana died. But it’s been years, and sometimes I… wanna reach out, you know? What kind of piece shit am I?”

“For what?” Legend asked, baffled. “Because you want company? Lana’s… she’s not going to be upset about that, you know.”

“I don’t want anybody like that,” Warriors groaned. “I can’t shake Lana anyway. Either I miss her so much I could drink my life away or her stupid sister harasses me. Or I wanna talk to Zelda and it just makes me feel like shit for thinking it.”

“Lana’s sister?” Legend questioned.

“Cia,” Warriors spat out like it was a curse word. “Biggest bitch I’ve ever met. She’s my landlady, and… ah, forget it. Wait, where are we?”

“We’re going to the ranch,” Legend answered.

Warriors’s head whipped in his direction. “What? C’mon, man, Time’ll lose his shit—”

“I am not babysitting you all night,” Legend threw back. “I did that last time, when you reached out to me. Look, man, you need help, and he knows way more about what you went through than me.”

“Dude, I ask you because you’re not involved in all that!”

Legend stammered, “Well—I—”

Ah, hell with it, he didn’t know what to say. Was it selfish of him to not want to deal with this alone? He dealt with drunks all the time at work, and he loved Warriors more than he would ever admit to the moron, but even he had his limits. Not to mention he was in way over his head.

Honestly, it was mostly just that. Legend couldn’t afford to be housing a drunk Warriors on his couch all the time, starting IVs to hydrate him to prevent a hangover or just finding an empty couch in the morning wondering if his friend had stumbled half dead through the alleys to get home. He needed more eyes on him.

Also, he knew Wolfie was a good therapy dog. And Twilight would never let Wars out of his sight.

There were just more people there to help. Legend wasn’t going to just drop him off, he’d stay too, but still.

This whole night was a mess.

But he did make sure to keep his mouth shut about everything Warriors had admitted. He understood that pain, and it seemed that was only the tip of the iceberg.

Warriors seemed to be put out by the news, leaning back and pouting, but eventually Legend heard snoring as they pulled into the long driveway to the ranch. He texted everyone in the house to see who would reply first, and Twilight came out within the minute.

“He’s plastered again?” Twilight questioned as he opened Wars’ door. “That’s like the third time this month.”

“What?” Legend asked, surprised. “But I only took care of him once!”

“Make that the fourth time, I guess,” Wild muttered as he joined them.

“This has got to stop,” Twilight sighed, unbuckling Warriors and easily hauling him over his shoulder.

“Uh, careful, he’s been getting sick,” Legend pointed out nervously.

“If he pukes on my shirt I’m gonna kick his ass,” Twilight huffed, making Wild laugh.

“Watch your language, you’re supposed to be the sweet country boy,” Wild cackled.

“Y’all haven’t met country boys, have you?” Twilight noted with a lopsided smile. “But my folks did raise me better than that. Sorry.”

“Let’s just get inside, it’s stuffy out here,” Legend grumbled as the door to the ranch opened once more, revealing Time and Malon.

“We got plenty of guest rooms, at least,” Malon sighed. “Come on, honey, I’ll show you where to put him.”

Time watched Legend carefully. “You sober?”

“You think I’d be driving if I wasn’t?” Legend snapped, insulted. “I’m not that careless.”

The surgeon nodded, expression softening. “I have to be sure with you boys. Emergency medicine isn’t for the faint of heart, and sometimes relieving that stress leads to carelessness.”

“As Wars is beautifully demonstrating,” Legend pointed out. “I was his designated driver. I’m fine.”

“Are you staying?”

Legend sighed. “…Yeah. Just to make sure that moron is fine.”

Time smiled, motioning for him to come inside. “We’ve got hot chocolate on the stove right now.”

Legend’s eyes widened. “Well shit, lead with that, I’m coming.”

With a laugh, the two entered the ranch and the group gathered in the living room to relax. Legend didn’t speak much of what happened, aside from explaining they were at an emergency department party, not wanting to really expose Warriors all that much despite the grief he had given him. But the mood was much better here than in the tavern, and Legend felt his fraying nerves finally start to relax.

Warriors needed alcohol to escape his ghosts, but Legend found that the ghosts didn’t bother him in this warm company. Maybe someday his friend would feel that way too.

[skyward-floored]

Lovebirds

Heard y’all like Zelink =)

Here’s more art I dug out of the old sketchbook, Linked Universe flavored this time! I love the concept that Zelda’s pink dress is really more of a “special occasion” dress, and her more day-to-day dress is that white/grey/red/green outfit from the concept art. It looks cozy!

Also thanks to @jojo56830 for this post with sky’s outfit, without which I would have been at a loss >u<

Close-ups under the cut!

[skyward-floored]

My new obsession? Twipri Link and his love for goats.

[skyward-floored]

@silvrash-797 This was funnnn >:D

Fics for context if you need it: the fight in question and who exactly this is

(Lil tw for a discussion of death and what could be read as suicide ideation)

Lost masterpost

————————————————————

The curse has nearly won.

There’s darkness raging all around him now, howling like a hurricane with him at the eye, burrowed so deep into Link its almost broken his spirit, turned him permanently into a servant of shadows.

But not yet.

The hero’s spirit tears through the darkness with a shining blade, his appearance beaten and battered. He doesn’t falter, even though there’s shadows swirling around him like living oil, tearing at the fabric of their strange plane of existence, screaming with hatred as it rages against him again and again and again.

He knows there will reach a point where he can’t resist anymore. When Link will finally falter, when darkness will find whatever cracks are there in his battered defenses and rush to fill them in, hollowing him out into a true shell with no hope of restoration.

But hopefully that point will never be reached. If... no, when the princess succeeds, it will be prevented. Link will be okay.

And Courage will fight in every battle the darkness tries to best him in.

It’s an endless dance, this fight. The shadows do wax and wane, but their slower periods have grown fewer and farther between, barely granting Link a moment’s respite, his spirit fighting endlessly to keep him from falling over the cliff he’s perched on.

Even though it’s the worst its ever been, he does not falter. Even when something cracks dangerously, he keeps striking back against the darkness, shouting in defiance, fighting desperately to protect the last vestige of light inside.

Link cannot be lost.

The darkness crowds out more light by the second, making the spirit’s legs shake, his sword wavering. Soon there’s only a spot barely big enough for him to stand left that’s not in shadow, and he slashes at it with a cry, refusing to stop, refusing to quit, even when it presses against him and twists around and constricts like a snake, greedily draining the light from him.

But then there’s a touch of magic.

He feels it, in that strange sense he has of Link’s greater self. That flicker he’s gotten only on occasions when Zelda finds Link and they fight each other, pain and heartbreak always fast to follow.

But this time it’s more determined. Focused. Nothing’s changed yet, darkness and shadow still eating away at him, but there’s a heavy feel, an expectant feel, like lightning about to strike.

Other magic is at work as well, one that works to contain and weaken, to prime the darkness for elimination, and the spirit violently struggles against the shadows even though moving is almost impossible. This is it. This must be their attempt.

They’re trying to free Link.

Something changes in the fight, the darkness pausing, as it were. That still feeling reaches the air again, and the shadows screech, turning on him with a newfound ferocity.

The spirit can barely fight back, surrounded on all sides, but he can tell this attack is more panicked, like the thrashing of an animal that knows its about to die. It’s difficult to counter, and he’s struck once, twice, more times then he can count, the tide overwhelming in its destruction.

He’s forced down, panic pounding, fear growing. He needs to hold on, just a little longer.

But the darkness creeps across him like a shroud and resumes its meal, draining the light and further wearing him down, wearing him away, warping the spirit that was forged in so much light and strength and crushing it into shadowed pieces.

There’s a scream. He doesn’t know where it comes from. The darkness muffles it and tears him away from thinking and he cries out an apology to Link and the one who made them.

But then there’s something.

Something that isn’t dark. Something warm.

Something healing.

There’s a light, one that peeks through the shadows like the sun behind a cloud. A golden hand stretches through, shining as bright as day through the shadows that scream at its touch, and Courage shouts, using the last of his strength to reach forward and take it.

Magic as familiar and warm as an embrace breezes past him, singing birdsong and healing and pure, golden, goddess-born light.

It’s not gentle. It comes with the intensity of an ocean, vast and boundless, rushing upon the shadows with a vengeance so hot it burns. They howl as they’re burned away by the searing light, and all he can do is curl up and try to protect what he is, let it purge the shadows and hopefully not take him with it.

Wave after wave of light rushes through Link, the darkness clawing and desperately trying to maintain its foothold. But nothing can stand against Hylia’s descendant, and though it’s agony as it’s torn away, the shadows lose their grip.

Finally it ends. And the darkness is gone.

The spirit carefully uncurls, still holding tight to his blade, and sits up and looks around. The water that makes up the ground is still, not so much as a ripple to disturb. The sky is a pale color that mirrors the appearance of dawn, before the sun is up, but after the light has begun to color the earth.

And suddenly Link sits there on the ground, on the water that isn’t wet, and stares up at that sky with tears on his face.

His spirit watches him a moment, proud and joyful and grieved. They’re on another precipice now. The darkness is gone, but the fight it left behind will not be easy.

Link doesn’t move, tears still falling, and so his spirit steps over to him, getting to his knees beside him and sitting.

“I’m dead, aren’t I?” Link finally says, voice quiet and thick.

“No,” Courage answers. “Not really. You’re more... in between. You’re adjusting to the shift, and the abrupt purge of magic. It was a lot of strain. Currently, you are not dead. You could go either way, though.”

Link lets out a sniffly laugh, wrapping his arms around himself. “I’m fine with that. Maybe if I go I can finally rest. It’d be nice to see mother again.”

Courage hums. “Is that the only thing you want? Rest?”

Link is silent a moment, wiping his sleeve over his face. “I’m no longer a threat. Zelda did it. I’m finally done, he can’t use me to hurt anyone or anything else, I... want to rest.”

Courage watches him intently. “You would leave her?”

Link pauses, neck bobbing.

“Hmm. There’s a lot left for you here, little brother. And more yet to do. Staying will be hard, I won’t lie, but there are many who want and need you here.”

Link closes his eyes. “I don’t know if I want to go back.”

Courage takes his shoulder, lightly rubbing. “We both know you do. This fight isn’t over— your kingdom is not yet free. You know the need to stop your tormentor. And you have people waiting for you, little brother. People who will be devastated if you leave.”

Link lowers his head, lip trembling, and Courage embraces him, trying to reassure as much as he can.

“Go back, Link,” he whispers, lightly running a hand over his head when his breath hitches. “Go back for her.”

Link sniffles, a tear dripping off his chin, but finally he nods, and his spirit pulls back so he can properly look at him.

“The fight isn’t done. But you have many allies, and Zelda on your side. I know you can triumph,” he reassures as he gently thumbs away the tears. “Now go back, Link.”

Link nods again, eyes still teary and figure broken and exhausted, but with a faint flicker of hope hiding in his eyes.

Then he’s gone, and Courage smiles, enjoying the sight of the sun rising up into the dawn.

[skyward-floored]

Okay I got them, thank you!

I’m in an au mood (per usual lol) and I haven’t managed to write much all day so

first three fic prompts I get I’ll write

[skyward-floored]

I’m in an au mood (per usual lol) and I haven’t managed to write much all day so

first three fic prompts I get I’ll write

[skyward-floored]

hmmm no none of them really flew very close, so if they did I wouldn’t have heard them.

A blue heron croaked at me and flew right near where I was sitting earlier tho?

Bird count so far today:

Green heron

Several blue herons

Three egrets

Some of those little white terns? I don’t know their names

A good amount of laughing gulls

A couple of more stereotypical seagulls

Some little swallow guys

Two swans (plus several babies)

Several ducks (? They might’ve been something else but the profile was like a duck. I just know they weren’t mallards)

A bunch of ospreys!!! Including one that landed in a tree in a great spot for me to watch (which I did on and off for a good hour)

And two of what I’m pretty sure were bald eagles

[skyward-floored]

Or I won’t make progress on anything NYEGH

overheated a lil oops

welp I needed a break anyway perhaps I’ll work on some writing

[skyward-floored]

overheated a lil oops

welp I needed a break anyway perhaps I’ll work on some writing

[skyward-floored]

Bird count so far today:

Green heron

Several blue herons

Three egrets

Some of those little white terns? I don’t know their names

A good amount of laughing gulls

A couple of more stereotypical seagulls

Some little swallow guys

Two swans (plus several babies)

Several ducks (? They might’ve been something else but the profile was like a duck. I just know they weren’t mallards)

A bunch of ospreys!!! Including one that landed in a tree in a great spot for me to watch (which I did on and off for a good hour)

And two of what I’m pretty sure were bald eagles

[skyward-floored]

More Beat the Heat! This prompt is a little different - a long time ago on a poll I put possible writing prompts up, and this one came in second place! I had promised a few people I would write it anyway, so here we finally are!

Prompt: Abel fights a corrupted Link.

At first it had simply been rumors, and ridiculous ones at that. Abel hardly listened to hearsay. But as word spread around that Link was not only no longer missing, but actually causing harm, he did start to worry.

Abel had been searching for his son for a month since the Upheaval. Queen Zelda was still missing, though rumors were beginning to arise about her as well, but she seemed to be appearing in separate places than his boy. He and Princess Mipha had split up to cover more ground, going to different areas of supposed sightings.

But when Link had returned to Zora’s Domain itself, attacking King Dorephan, Abel had known these were not rumors.

Something was wrong. Aside from the obvious in that Link would never do such a thing, the Zora also reported that before the young man had been repelled, they’d noticed that he looked like he himself was half covered in the same gloom that was poisoning the area. Some wondered if the one who attacked Dorephan was even Link at all, but rather just a monster made of dark magic.

Mipha was understandably distraught, staying at her father’s side to help him heal, worrying about the safety of her brother and son. Abel had sworn to the Zora royal family that he would find his son, just as he’d done to Rhoam.

There was a lot more heaviness in his words now as he spoke them, though.

But as he traced his son’s steps more, he realized that this wasn’t just a monster, it was his child. Link still had mannerisms that tipped the knight off, based on the paths he took, the trinkets he picked up, the bits of food from recipes that he knew that were left behind where he would camp. Not to mention the latest story of a sighting of the young man claimed he stopped himself mid attack.

Abel’s heart was filled with dread as he came up to his next destination. Based on the path Link was taking, he was likely heading for the Gorons next. Abel had taken a shortcut.

Please, Hylia, he prayed, he begged. Please help him fight this. And… and help me fight it too.

He knew what he had to do. This wasn’t just a straightforward rescue operation. That malice would make Link attack him.

He’d have to fight his son.

They had a plan in place. Abel would find and defeat Link, bringing him to Mipha. She would heal what she could, but the Champions would all help escort Link to the Shrine of Light… once they found it. The Zonai Team indicated that it existed, and that it could purge dark magic, but the scripts implied that it was in the sky.

Revali was searching the islands at this very moment. Urbosa was gathering warriors as best she could while also dealing with the unpredictable, grueling weather plaguing the desert. Daruk was planning on trying to meet up with Abel to help fight Link, or at the very least supply bonds strong enough to keep the young man imprisoned while he was corrupted. All the Champions were sacrificing time and efforts that they’d poured into helping their own people during all the crises developing across Hyrule.

Abel took a steadying breath as he slowly crept up a hill to peer over into the road below. Link was indeed there, slowly moving along. The boy was pale, one eye black with a yellow iris, with purplish red stained across his cheek and chin like veins filled with poisoned blood. His right arm was a similar color, mottled and near necrotic looking, despite functioning seemingly normally. His Champion shirt looked like it had been burnt, singed edges barely covering his torso on the side of his affected arm. His hair was disheveled, bags under his eyes, the boy had probably barely rested while under control. Abel felt his heart clench at the sight of his child.

He offered one more prayer before grabbing his sword and shield, silently making his way to the path.

Link froze as his father blocked the road ahead of him. Abel searched desperately for any kind of recognition in his son, saying, “Link… this needs to stop. I know… I know you’re fighting it. Let me help you.”

The young man in front of him didn’t move for what felt like an eternity, but there was no worry, no anguish, no concern in his eyes. His left one looked far more watery than his right, though as he started to glare, and Abel knew there was no way to end this peacefully.

As a tear fell out of Link’s left eye, though, Abel knew his boy was indeed still there, trapped, and he was going to free him.

Drawing his blade, Abel said firmly, “I’m sorry, son. This… isn’t going to be pleasant for either of us. But I will free you.”

Whatever hesitation had been holding Link hostage burned away as he snarled, grabbing his own weapon (not the Master Sword, though, Abel noted) and charged ahead. Abel blocked the attack easily, but his rebuttal was dodged by his son with nearly as little effort. These two had sparred so many times over the years they knew each other’s fighting style like it was their own. Abel had wondered if perhaps the demonic control over his child would make his fighting different, more erratic or aggressive or something, but it seemed Link still defaulted to his own way, making this both easier and so much harder.

Link flipped back to avoid a swipe, and Abel knew the rush of attacks that were coming next, bringing his shield up just in time to avoid getting cut multiple times over. His heart was ramming against his chest, anxiety and anger mixing in equal parts, a desperation to save his child while also a ferocious desire to kill whatever was doing this to him. He pushed all of it aside, focusing on fighting instead, knowing he had to find an opening. Link had only improved his abilities over the years, and considering his son was a near prodigy, that left Abel sorely lacking.

Nevertheless, what Abel lacked in raw talent he made up for in conviction and experience.

He also had a few tricks up his sleeve.

Bringing out some dazzle fruit, he tossed it out around the shield, hiding his head behind the battered defense and closing his eyes as he heard it explode in a bright burst of light. Link gasped, stumbling a bit, and Abel pushed forward harshly with his shield, knocking the boy clear over. Abel moved to thrust downward, but Link rolled just in time to avoid the brunt of the hit, though it at least sliced his right arm. He cried out, and for a second Abel froze before shaking the feeling, ignoring watching his boy bleed, demanding to himself that he keep going.

This was the only way he could save him.

Abel could hear the growing frustration in Link’s voice as he used his momentum from rolling to push up to his feet. He did a long slash horizontally to keep Abel at bay, teeth bared and eyes fierce, but Abel could hear the difference in the swing, the way the wind didn’t quite whistle as it usually would. The cut had at least done some damage, then.

Remaining as calm as he could, Abel moved to circle around the younger knight, who matched his pace as they sized each other up for another round. He noticed Link didn’t bother going for an elixir or anything, and he wondered if the boy had even bothered making any. The control over him chipped away at his personality, at his eagerness to search and explore that he inherited from his mother. This thing was making Link a shell of himself, and Abel tightened his grip on his sword, charging ahead.

Link was ready for him this time, pulling his bow out instead, and Abel hastily threw his shield in front of him so his son wouldn’t skewer him. He heard small feet rushing his way, and Link came into view in his peripheral vision as the young man dashed around the shield to get a clear opening. Abel balked, trying to get back in time but Link’s sword still managed to smack against the thick leather around his waist, knocking the wind out of him. He resorted to throwing his shield instead as he fell, and it smacked the boy right in the face, giving him enough time to catch his breath. He didn’t bother retrieving it quite yet, instead bringing his sword upward, trying again to hit his target.

The blade sank into Link’s right shoulder, and he screamed.

Every fiber of Abel’s being cried out in response, but he followed through with the move keeping one hand on his blade and using his right to slam into Link’s chest, tackling him to the ground and pinning him in place. Link desperately clawed at him with his uninjured arm, kicking and yelling, but Abel didn’t move, trying to keep his breathing even as he let the boy wear himself out.

Eventually, Link’s protests and movements lessened, his breathing more labored, and Abel felt himself start to shake. He violently pushed aside the emotions trying to spill out as his boy’s behavior shifted from enemy desperately trying to get out of a bind to scared and in pain.

He knew better than to let go, to ease up as if Link were suddenly his ally again. So instead of pulling the sword out of the young man’s shoulder, he pulled a bottle out of his pouch. He tried the gentle way first, in case it actually, by some miracle, worked. “Drink this and I’ll let go.”

Any reasonable person would say no, of course, and a mind controlled minion of Calamity Ganon would definitely refuse. Nevertheless, Link shakily reached for the bottle, and Abel hoped for a moment that it might be that easy.

But the boy tried to swat at the bottle instead to spill its contents as he let out another yell of pain and frustration. Abel knew Link would half choke on the contents, but he had been told it was potent enough that a few sips would do the trick. He shoved the bottle against the boy’s mouth, and Link coughed as he tried to fight any liquid going down, but some inevitably made it, and his son’s protests grew weaker.

Abel stayed strong, keeping Link pinned in place until he grew still altogether, breaths finally settling into sleep.

And then he let out a breath as heavy as a Divine Beast, sliding off Link and shaking violently. Link didn’t move, still staked into the ground with Abel’s sword, shoulder oozing blood around the blade, skin pale and sweaty. The fight was over, and he couldn’t—he couldn’t stand to let this continue any longer. He quickly pulled out a bottle with a fairy in it, hands shaking so much he nearly dropped the thing multiple times, before he finally ripped the sword out of his child.

Link screamed, sharply dragged into alertness long enough for the pain to sear through him, but the fairy’s magic soothed the agony into a dull ache, and the sleeping potion kicked back into effect.

Abel collapsed to his hands and knees, holding his child, trembling and trying desperately not to cry, trying to maintain enough composure to finish this mission. He couldn’t stop now, he had to get the boy to the Domain, they had to find a way to take him to the Shrine of Light and fix this.

I’m sorry, Link, he whispered in his mind, too afraid to say it aloud lest it make him fall apart entirely. And then he gently picked his child up, weakly making his way up the path where Daruk was to meet him at the stable. Link was heavy in his arms, having grown from the little boy he knew into a strong young man, and Abel was already faltering as it was, but he gritted his teeth and fought it as he walked uphill.

He heard a booming voice in the distance, and glanced up in time to nearly yelp and rush out of the path as Daruk barreled down the road.

“You got him!” Daruk said, small black eyes opened wide as he moved quickly towards the pair. “Don’t worry, Sir Abel, I got it from here.”

Abel almost didn’t want to let go of his son, but he knew he couldn’t feasibly carry him to their destination. He didn’t say a word, letting the boy slip from his arms into the stronger Goron’s hold, watching as Daruk bound Link’s wrists and ankles with heavy iron to keep him from causing trouble if he awoke along the way.

Daruk sighed. “I don’t get it. How did the little guy end up like this? I can’t believe the rumors were actually true. But gosh, look at that arm! What did the malice do to him?”

Despite the multitude of questions, Abel didn’t bother responding. He was over this day. He couldn’t take his eyes off Link, and Daruk seemed to understand, sighing heavily and saying, “Well, let’s go. The sooner we can get to Mipha, the sooner we can fix this.”

Abel nodded, and the two began the long walk back to the Domain. Daruk’s resolve helped strengthen his own, but he couldn’t help feeling his heart break as he watched his boy, as he heard Link’s screams in his mind, as he looked down and saw Link’s blood on his hands.

He felt like he was going to be sick. But it was worth it, it had to be.

They would heal his boy. And then Abel himself would tear Ganon apart, destiny be damned.

[skyward-floored]

Boy heroically puts horse conditioner in princess’s hair without a moment’s hesitation

[skyward-floored]

Fan Joy July 2025 - Day 23

Hand Gestures by @galenfeadraws is delicious😈

Time gets captured and his captors really learn that they messed with the wrong group! I think everyone's dynamics work really well, especially Hyrule letting Wars take over the rescue mission because of his experience leading. It's just good working insight into the characters!

Such a satisfying read hehehehe

[skyward-floored]

ゼルダ無双11周年 ╱ Hyrule Warriors 11th Anniversary