#Bittersweet!Link

[shrimpari]

Beat ToTK a bit ago and all I could think about was them.

One day I’ll get to play a new Zelda game that gave me the same or similar emotional rush that Twilight Princess did

[storge]

Zhou Xiaobai was the best performer and singer here, but she had a conflict with Shifu and was chased out.

JIANG MENGJIE as Zhou Xiaobai Link Click (2024)

[mrs-theirin]

Maya Holland @ MHolland i am once again telling you to listen to bittersweet memories. right now. on any platform. youtube spotify apple music i don't CARE

(logo creds to @gncrezan)

[amanitacurses]

":P"

[wrathyforest]

s c a r s

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Lovelies, I really am sorry, these blorbos still have me in a freaking chokehold...

Despite the chaos of the battle, something distinct caught Ganondorf’s attention. In a sea of red hair and brown skin paired with leather and steel, in a sea of armor and white banners, there was light gold, like the pale yellow chrysanthemums Orik had gifted to Hemisi.

Orik. Link.

Link was here.

Damn that child. He’d told him to stay away. He knew the boy hadn’t listened, but to have the audacity to fight where Ganondorf himself was…

Well, he had to admit the boy had far more gumption to him than he’d realized. It was no wonder Hemisi had fallen for him. Ganondorf caught the attention of his commander. “Bring Link to me. Alive.”

[ezdotjpg]

Supply Run

Hello here's a fic I wrote about Loft taking a trip back to Skyloft, pre the plot of bonus links. 1381 words!

Link’s favorite errand, head and shoulders above the competition, is making the trek up to Skyloft for a supply refresh. It’s why Zelda continues to ask him to do it, despite the fact that he always takes roughly 6 hours longer than he’s strictly meant to, and forgets at least one item on the list more than half the time. He should remind her, for the millionth time, that he loves her very much. 

“Thanks again, Luv!” he calls behind him as he makes to leave her stall, satchel full of all the necessary elixir ingredients they’ve been running low on. He double checked the list this time. Triple checked it, even. 

“Fly safe, now!” Luv shouts back, and even with his back turned he can imagine her shaking her comically large ladle after him. “I see you out there pulling stunts, you’ll give us all a heart attack one day!”

Link thinks he flies perfectly safe, thank you very much, but he promises to be very careful, and makes his escape from the Bazaar. Sunshine warming his face against the chill, he continues down the ramp, over the bridge, and into the residential quarter of the island. Few of the island’s older adults have agreed to make the move down to the surface yet, so while the area’s quiet, there’s still life in the buildings. He makes his rounds, popping in to each home to say hello and listen to the latest news, often several times over. 

“You’re looking thin again,” Henya frets, giving him a once over with a shrewd eye. “Are you sure you kids are growing enough food down there?”

He assures her that this year’s harvest was the best one yet, but she sends him off with several flasks of soup anyway, enough that he has to wedge them haphazardly in the satchel to make it all fit. 

“You look tired,” Batreaux tells him. He’d been overjoyed by the somewhat wonkily carved Keese Link had made to dress up the windowsill of his new home on Skyloft proper. Now, his brow is furrowed as he putters through his kitchen cabinets. “I’ve got a tea that might help, where in the world did it run off to?”

The packet of tea takes the Keese figure’s place in Link’s pocket, and as the door closes behind him, he tries to remember how many minutes Batreaux told him to steep it for. He never gets it quite right.

With all his visits finished, he lingers in the village square, pointedly not looking at the docks. He walks back to the neighborhood and checks on the island’s pumpkin crop, which looks fine. He catches a few sky stag beetles, and then lets most of them go. He sits by the waterfall and munches on a stamina fruit, kicking his legs over the side and getting his boots all wet. 

He’s half finished formulating a plan to break into his old academy room for no reason in particular before he finally, painfully decides that actually, it’s probably better to return home. Before the sun sets, and Crimson won’t fly anymore, and he’s forced to spend the night. Again. What a tragedy that would be. 

Back at the docks, he makes sure the satchel is buckled securely, briefly laments the ache in his knees, and takes off at run. At the last second, he twists his body around, launching off the edge with his arms out and his back to the land below. 

Link closes his eyes against the glare of the sun, and lets himself enjoy the freefall. His stomach swoops, his body weightless. Crisp air fills his lungs, the same air that tugs at his clothes and tickles his face with his hair. Falling on the surface is never quite this peaceful. Over the course of his quest, he learned what it meant to truly hit the ground, to feel flesh bruise and bones crunch. He made enough wrong footed steps, took tumbles off edges so high he thought they’d be the end of him, scrambling for the sailcloth.

Down below, there’s no failsafe, no guarantee that someone will catch you. The ground rushes up to meet you so fast. But here in the sky, he knows no one will ever let him fall too far. 

Speaking of, the couple of knights that still circle the island are probably getting antsy by now. He gives himself two more counts, taking them slow in his head, before bringing his fingers to his mouth. He whistles one sharp, clear note, and flips himself over into the proper position. It’s only a few seconds more before a familiar call answers. 

He grabs onto Crimson’s harness easily, though the rapid change in speed as she pulls up sends a painful zap up his bad arm. Crimson clicks her beak in apology, like she knows. He pets the soft fur of her back to soothe her. It’s his own fault, really.

It’s getting late. Batraeux was right about one thing: he is tired. He really shouldn’t do much besides simply flying home. 

But he sees Crimson so rarely these days, and her joy is a warm flare in the back of his mind. They circle around the islands scattered around Skyloft, making twirls and loops until he’s breathless from a combination of laughter and exertion, and the sun is beginning to hang dangerously low. Crimson begins her reluctant descent. 

As she hovers high above his front yard, Link gives her a hug around her neck, careful not to squeeze too hard. 

“Thank you,” he says. “See you next time.”

The jolt that runs through him as the sailcloth catches his weight certainly doesn’t help his arm, and he grits his teeth against it. Like always, Crimson stays in sight until his feet touch the ground. He stays rooted to the spot as well, waving after her until her form disappears over the treetops. 

It’s like a spell has broken. He lets his left hand drop, and all of a sudden, his limbs feel so heavy. It’s possible he’s overdone it a little. Every muscle in his body has a complaint it would very much like to lodge. The altitude change sticks in his lungs, makes the air feel thick enough he almost wants to cough. But he’d still call it the good kind of exhausted, the satisfied kind. With any luck, he’ll sleep so well tonight he won’t even dream. Dead on his feet, he shuffles his way onto the porch and inside the house. 

He kicks his boots off by the door, dropping the satchel as gently as he can manage it. Zelda looks up from where she’d been writing in a notebook on the couch, eyes crinkling as soon as she spots him. The house is full of warm, spiced smells and sizzling sounds, which implies that Groose is busy making dinner in the kitchen. If Link listens close, he can almost hear Groose humming.

“Welcome home, love,” Zelda says, setting her notebook aside. She doesn’t comment on his lateness, her smile knowing. He thinks, maybe, that it looks a little sad, too. That he misses it so much, that he lingers so long every time he gets the chance. Everyone on the surface misses Skyloft, but it’s different for him, isn’t it? It’s different. He can’t hide anything from her. 

Pushing the thought out of his mind, he makes a beeline over to the couch with the last of his energy, and flops over to join her. His head lands in her lap, and he can feel her body shake as she laughs at him. 

“That good, huh?” she teases. He makes a vaguely affirmative noise, curling up comfortably as her hand comes to rest on his head. He feels every ache and pain acutely now that he’s no longer standing, but it’s easy to ignore with Zelda’s fingers combing through his hair.

“Did you get everything on the list?”

“Mhm.”

“Double checked?”

“Mhm.”

“Hey, was that Link just now?” That one is Groose’s voice. It sounds closer when he speaks next, like he’s poked his head around the corner. “Babe, no sleeping yet! Dinner’s gonna be ready soon!”

“Don’t worry,” Zelda says. He’s already failing at Groose’s request. “I’ll wake you.”

[aufi-creative-mind]

[BotW-TotK Family and Legacy] Modern AU (Wishful AU).

Something different from my list of WIPs. A lighthearted pic of Link hugging his Mum (OC), Selene. Cuz I just need some wholesomeness.

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i need to share the absolute fucking Experience i had playing minecraft tonight. i'm gonna be emotional about it for days

so me and my friends like to play on this server that's pretty much just a bunch of minigames. one of them is Murder Mystery - of a group of - i think its 13/14 people - one person is randomly selected as the murderer (spawns with a sword), the other as the sheriff (spawns with a bow). the rest are innocent. the innocents can gain a bow by collecting coins. no one knows anyone's status unless the player shows their sword/bow. i'm doing a quest where, in order to get points, i need to kill the murderer.

so as the game start countdown begins, me and my pal are checking out this Red Link skin. it's pretty neat! we're all crouching and punching at each other, as one does. i feel a connection form with Red Link. we're buddies now. we're in this together.

so we're all running around the map. every time i see Red Link, we crouch and punch at each other. the game is going fine, we're having fun. i'm delighted that i've made a one-game friend.

then my friend says that Red Link is the murderer, and i literally have a hard time believing it. Red Link? my Red Link? no, they must be mistaken. we were together at the start. they had ample opportunities to kill me. it can't be Red Link. but whoever the murderer killed was the sheriff, and i needed to complete the quest - picking up the sheriff tombstone grants me the bow.

so i run, trying to find it, and i turn the corner.

there Red Link was, standing at the end of the hall, by the tombstone, with a sword in hand. i froze. i was so upset - not Red Link! not my dear companion! i was so sure that was it.

but i walked forward anyway, thinking that maybe if i dodged around them, grabbed the bow, and turned and shot fast enough, i could get them. the thought was actually distressing! Red Link didn't put the sword away. they watched me slowly approach. we stood on either side of the tombstone, and i expected Red Link to cut me down. i was well within reach of their sword.

Red Link calmly, still looking at me, moved to the side and past me. i panicked and grabbed the bow, ran to the corner, turned and drew - Red Link was already at the other end of the hall, running away. i didn't want to shoot, but i needed the kill - who knows when i'd get an opportunity to complete the quest again. it's a tough one.

i missed, thank fuck, but man. i was in shock. i thought i was a goner.

then, after the game where awards are given - the murderer, who killed them, who collected the most coins - i went up to Red Link and crouched. they crouched back.

then they left the game.

[elibean]

So there’s really only two options for how link click can end, now. Either:

A) death really is an unchangeable, inevitable node. CXS has to die. LG can’t save him.

or

B) there’s some secret power or loophole that can save him. They get their happily ever after, but not without a lot of pain and strife

[bunny-hoodlum]

be the end of me - chapter nine

Think I might finally be all angst-ed out for the time being 🥲

[emerald-hobbit]

If This Is The Final Time We Meet...

Summery:

What if Loki defended Mobius immediately when Sylvie snapped at him? Stayed to make sure he was okay before talking to Sylvie? How does that effect their final moments? How does that effect the story onwards?

Filled with love, sadness and bittersweetness all round.

*Is really a one shot with chapter one since I have no clue where to go with this... Ill leave chaper two up anyway*

[angeltannis]

Just want everyone to know, as the unofficial TWDG fandom historian slash record keeper, that it was exactly 10 years ago today that The Walking Dead Game (Season 1) took home Game of the Year at The Game Awards - a victory that shocked literally everyone including Telltale themselves (who were watching it from one employee’s apartment, drinks in hand, ready to commiserate when they lost), and ushering in an entire new generation of story-based & point and click games that might never have seen the light of day if TWDG hadn’t led the way 💕

[vagueandominousvibes]

Hi @quorou! I'm a little later in posting this than I would've liked to, but here's the rest of the gift exchange from Discord. It may have been a little longer than I expected. Hope you enjoy it :)

(Fanfic under the cut — 1,377 words, contains some light Vio/Red)

You'll Be Brilliant

Books. Old books, forgotten books, abandoned books. They had been Vio’s treasures for as long as he could remember. They had taught him everything he knew of magic, from how to sprout a seed to how to summon rainfalls during summer droughts. The little chest in the back of Town Hall Library had taught him everything his home could need.

Then, one winter night at the end of the year, the mayor had invited his family to share in their Midwinter Feast. There weren’t large gaps between the social layers of their town, but Vio’s mother had been honoured nonetheless, and Vio and his younger twin-brothers were told to dress up nicely and behave themselves. After all, the mayor had a lovely daughter, and maybe one of them could make a good impression. (Vio desperately hoped it wouldn’t be him.)

Wrapped in their nicest capes they trudged through the snow, carefully avoiding the muddy puddles where carts had passed along the road. 

Vio still remembered his mother’s hair before him, carefully braided and pinned in a rose at the nape of her neck, with dried flowers woven into it. He had whispered a spell under his breath as they walked, and the flowers had brightened and grown into a midwinter crown of holly and rosehips.

At the mayor’s they had been kindly greeted and invited into the sitting room, but there were no lovely daughters there. Instead, a tall bearded man, narrow and ageing, warmed his hands on the fireplace. Fine embroideries, brushed furs, velvet, and polished leather caught the firelight, and when he turned towards them, piercing blue eyes landed on Vio’s mother’s midwinter crown.

“A fine spell,” he acknowledged. “This is your work?”

Vio’s mother curtsied. “My oldest son’s, sir.”

The piercing eyes shifted to Vio, who straightened and inclined his head.

“Come here, boy.”

Vio approached.

The man caught Vio’s chin and turned his face this way and that, examining it in the light. Unreadable, he let go and turned to Vio’s hands. 

Vio had never been embarrassed by the callouses — indeed, had been proud to show that he had worked hard to take care of his mother and brothers — but under this man’s gaze he wished he could withdraw his hands and hide them.

Finally, the man said, “You have potential,” and turned to the mayor and Vio’s mother. “I will take him.”

Vio’s mother curtsied deeply, while the mayor bowed. “Thank you, sir. I am certain he will make you as proud as he has made us.”

The man didn’t look at Vio. “That remains to be seen.” He stepped away from the fireplace, and Vio hid his hands in his sleeves. “Red! We are departing.”

Footsteps sounded from the kitchen, and a dark-eyed golden-haired boy, likely a year or so younger than Vio, in a red waistcoat, dark trousers, and polished leather boots, emerged carrying a bundle of sweet pastries. “Ready!” The boy grinned.

The man shook his head, though his gaze softened. “Leave some for the good folk, Red.”

“But they said I could have it!”

The man raised an eyebrow.

“Fine.” Red handed the bundle to one of Vio’s brothers, keeping two pastries only. “They taste amazing. Enjoy them.”

Vio’s brother blinked.

Then Red was at the man’s side. “So?”

“If he has the aptitude for more refined spells is yet to be seen.” The man inclined his head towards the mayor and Vio’s mother, then headed for the door.

Red offered Vio a grin and one of the remaining pastries. “He’s always like that. I’m sure you’ll be brilliant. What’s your name?”

Red, Vio soon learned, had a talent. Where Vio spent long nights memorising words and phrases of power, and poring over ancient tomes in the Royal Library, Red’s magic was instinctual. In all the years Vio spent as an apprentice to the Royal Mage of Hyrule, he never saw Red read a single book on magic theory or spellwork.

Where Vio struggled, Red breezed through. And by all that was holy, Vio envied him. Not that Red made a point of his talents — not at all. Red was sweet, kind, and full of joy. He helped Vio when he could, spent his afternoons working with herbists and helping out in the infirmary, and experimented with new and convoluted spells that, to him, came as easy as breathing.

Which was why it came as a shock to Vio when Red decided to leave.

Vio stared at him across the dining table, his turkey slices and pudding forgotten.

The Royal Mage put his silverware down and folded his hands. “I cannot say I’m surprised.”

“Really?” Red laughed.

“You are a brilliant mage, but you never took to your training as much as I hoped.”

“I just find it a little tedious.”

“So I gather.” The Royal Mage’s eyes twinkled. “Well.” He picked his silverware back up. “Where will you go?”

“I want to see the world. I’ve saved up enough money to keep me comfortable for a year or so — or maybe start a business somewhere. I know a lot about herbs and healing, but I would like to know more.” Red smiled. “I would like to help people.”

When it was polite to do so, Vio excused himself. For ten years, Red had been a fixture in his life. It had seemed inevitable that Red would become the next Royal Mage, and that Vio would become his assistant. Indeed, if anyone left, it would have been Vio. 

He had fantasised about it occasionally: about returning home to his mother and brothers; about settling back into small-town life; about meeting a clever merchant or traveller his own age, who wouldn’t be opposed to settling down.

Of course he had always known it was a fantasy. Going back would be admitting defeat — to himself, to his mother, to his brothers, and to his home. He would not disappoint them.

Still, that tantalising fantasy had made staying feel like a choice — like he could get up and leave anytime, but chose to stay. Chose to learn. Chose to practice. The castle floors felt cold and unfamiliar under his feet, as if he had never truly noticed them until now. The halls felt vast, dark, and frightening. Now, he had no choice.

He hurried through the cold and the dark, up the spiralling staircases to the East Spire, and murmured quiet words to escape the notice of guards and servants until he could close the heavy wooden door behind himself and collapse onto his bed.

Some time later a knock on the door disturbed his darkness. Softly the door opened and closed. Footsteps approached the bed. The magic that always seemed naturally attracted to Red  — that gathered around him like a warm glow — illuminated his face and his hair, and flickered in his eyes.

“Hi.” Red sat next to him.

“Hi.” Vio’s voice cracked.

“Were you sleeping?”

“No.”

Red nodded. The magic around him brightened, creating a bubble of light around the bed. He looked down and fiddled with the edge of the covers. “Remember what I told you that first day when we picked you up?”

“That I’ll be brilliant.”

“Yeah.”

“I’m nothing compared to you.”

“That’s not true,” Red admonished. “You’ll be the next Royal Mage and you know it.”

“It’s not like I have a choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

“Not now. He won’t have time to train someone else.”

“So you don’t want to become the Royal Mage?”

Vio pinched his lips together in a thin line.

“Vio.” Red shuffled closer and leaned over him. Even when Red wasn’t smiling, the crinkles around his eyes and the dimples in his cheeks were never far from the surface. 

Vio looked away.

Red blew a stream of warm tickling air directly into his ear.

“Hey!” Vio shoved him off and sat up, rubbing his ear. 

Red was laughing.

“Rude.”

“Are you done being miserable?”

“I’m not miserable.”

“Sure.”

Vio sighed. “Fine. Yes. I do want to become the Royal Mage. I just don’t know if I’m good enough.”

“You’re everything a future Royal Mage would want to be, and more.” Red took his hands and smiled. “You’ll be brilliant.” Softly, he kissed Vio’s palms.

[rewandemontay]

Queen Sunny AU Story: "Eye Of The Storm"

CW: Some death and darkness.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/57491083

Summary:

"They deserved peace of mind, and the harsh truths of the war, at the very least. It didn’t matter that Sunny didn’t like it, either.

She strangled the Eye of Onyx in her grasp, squeezing for any ounce of comfort.

It hurt.

It hurt.

It hurt.

Sunny did not, could not, cry.

She sat still and firm, taking it in. Preparing herself as much as possible.

Stonemover remained next to her, the final and last tether in the sandstorm consuming her.

With golden scales and golden sands, under golden chains and golden pains, for golden skies and golden glory, she now ruled from the golden throne, serving the will of the Eye of Onyx.

As queen of the Sandwings, she knew her every action and every word affected the world. Soon, for the first time, to her unavoidable grief and displeasure, would she invoke the true depth of her power.:

Newly crowned and appointed, Queen Sunny, and her Royal Advisor, her father Stonemover, call a meeting of all queens and the Dragonets of Destiny. They must make it through together, and do what must be done, no matter how hard the choice they must make is.

[silverslipstream]

New BCB fic out!

A Secret, Special, Unexplainable Third Thing

It's a winter evening in David's second year of college, and he's lying in his old bedroom, trying not to think about all the pieces his life has shattered into. This is his first time back in Roseville for ages, he hasn't spoken to any of his friends in ten months, and the unanswered questions and half-truths about himself are beginning to eat away at him from the inside.

Then he accepts a call from an old friend, and as they reconnect, it turns out David's not the only one who's changed since the gang graduated from Roseville High...

Tags: Angst with a Happy Ending, Alternate Universe - College/University, Aromantic, Asexuality, Queer Themes, Queerplatonic Relationships, Coming Out, Recreational Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Abuse, poor David's been through some shit, and Paulo's not doing the best either, but damn it these two are gonna smoke a joint and talk shit out, my favourite boys are hurting and only they can heal each other, Implied Romantic Tension, background character lore!!