#Rusl is trying to be open

[nancyheart11]

Unmasking a Warrior! (about 2 weeks into Dad Squad)

Abel raised his (much cleaner and sharper due to his new companions) Sword and sliced into another Bokoblin with a huff, where were all these monsters coming from? Though he had been  with these strange new men searching for their sons, a scarce fortnight Abel could admit that having such skilled companions was beginning to grow on him. 

Far to his left he heard the awful sound of the Fierce Deity’s huge blade rend another limb from a guardian with almost disgusting ease, considering how many were mowed down in seconds when . . . No time to think of the past while an arrow flew far to near Abel’s face for comfort. He turned to check on Rusl and was nearly blinded by the flash of light coming from the direction of the Fierce Deity. Abel felt his stomach swoop as he spared a glance in the direction of his friend(?) only to see a conspicuous lack of the 12 foot warrior. He had no time to check on the state of his companion since the monsters swelled around Rusl and him, forcing them on the defensive while they struggled to keep their heads in the tide of battle.

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Link gasped in pain as his knees hit the ground. Looking up he saw smears of color and far too bright sunlight assaulting his vision. He squeezed his eyes shut to block out the pain, as the ringing in his ears faded enough to make out the sounds of . . . monsters squealing?

Oh no, the last thing Link remembers is putting on the near burning mask as he was surrounded by turncoats, which he knew the deity would have no problem getting rid of. The fact that the sounds around him were clearly of monster origin was . . . off.

He tried to stand up and almost tasted dirt as the world spun and smeared in confusing colors around him, the pounding of his head suddenly demanding all of his attention.

He managed to squint at the slowly coming into to focus trees around him as his head quieted to a dull roar. Then a unusual looking lizalfoes crossed his blurry vision, with something wooden clutched in its talons. Squinting harder, he was able to make out bright red and blue on the wood in the monsters grasp. A jolt of panic ran through him at the realization for some reason. But the only piece of wood with markings that vivid he could recall was-

Sprite! His cry came out whisper quiet and raspy from how dry his throat was. When was the last time he'd had water? Didn’t matter right now any way, with the shot of adrenaline to his body, he remembered Putting on the mask, having it sear against his face, and a voice whispering that they would both be safe? That might have just been Link’s imagination since the Deity hadn’t been very emotive when he had interacted with them before.

Link staggered to his feet, using a nearby tree as leverage to keep from falling over once more, feeling weak from however long he had been hosting the Fierce Deity and shaking from the adrenaline that was helping him stay upright at all. 

He was in bad shape and he knew it. Only a small dagger on his person, that he would be lucky to keep hold of with how badly he was shaking, a headache ferocious as though a nail were being driven in with every labored and raspy breath, exhaustion clinging to every corner of his body, only being held back by worry for the smaller Link who he would have seen already if he had been saved.

Looking down showed a shorn branch that was about as tall as he was. He managed to grab it, and started moving after the lizalfoes as fast as he could, uncaring of how the thump of the branch was surely giving away his position.

Luckily for him, the lizalfoes was paying little attention to it's surroundings and went down with one good wack to the back of the head. (Link is going to idnire that he fell onto the monsters still very solid body from the hit) he managed to scramble away from the lizalfoes with the mask clutched to his body and hide in a bush before the monsters angry screeches sounded.

Link looked down on the clearly ancient Wooden mask, pristine looking as always and traced the marks that had begun to cling to Sprites face for short periods after taking it off near the end of the War (and how his heart burned for the child that was so used to fighting a War god could cling to his form at all)

The realization that he had no clue if the long term effects of wearing such an object hit Link and he grimaced. He pulled the knife out of his boot and brought it to his face. His eyes had bags under them that resembled bruises more than anything else, his cheeks which had been compared to apples more than once were now sunken in and drawn tight over prominent check bones. But all the clear signs of malnourishment and no sleep were overshadowed by seeing his hair.

It had gone from a brilliant golden sheen that looked like sunshine had graced his head, to the pale yellow of a wilting dandelion, that had made the mistake of growing in the shade, it's color and life both doomed to fade without intervention. Link was brought out of his musings when he heard a call.

"Fierce! We could really use your help on this one!"

It wasn't desperate, not yet. Link forced his arching and exhausted body up and limped way to the treeline, where he was able to see a fairly large group of monsters surrounding . . . Something. He squinted and was blessed with a brief clear view of the commotion. 2 hylians both fighting with blood soaked swords, sporting various injuries that would need attention soon the way the battle was going.

The sight of them sparked a flurry of fondness? In Links chest. He felt the need to help well up in him, but even he could admit that in his current state he would be more of a liability than an asset. He brought out the mask with trembling hands. This was the only useful weapon he had, but the consequences. . .

He spared a glance at the cursed thing and did a double take because the masks expression seemed to shifted slightly, with one perfectly sculpted brow millimeters higher than the other.

" I can't fight as I am, but I think putting you on might get me killed too." He whispered

The mask in his hands jumped in temperature before cooling rapidly. What was going on??

On the field the shorter man cried as he was stabbed in the thigh and without wasting another second in thought, the warm mask was slammed on his face.

_—--------------------------------

Abel cried out knowing that he might have just ensured Hyrule's total destruction. Just as Hylia had abandoned her people in their time of need, so too had the Fierce Deity left him and Rusl to die, desperately searching for their sons. Rusl crouched closer over head with his shield held to try and cover Abel, but he could tell from the tension in the others back that they both knew how unlikely survival was.

Then Abel was blinded momentarily by a bright Flash of light, by the time he managed to blink the spots away only the rapidly dissipating bodies of the monsters were left, and standing as though the hoard about to overwhelm the two mortals were merely an annoyance, was the Fierce Deity.

" Thanks for the save." was Rusl's mild reply to the sudden appearance of their missing Companion.

Abel felt the ground tilt, and only realized he had been scooped up like a child when his cheek touched soothing cool metal.

“Apologies. . . It appears I have miscalculated, I will be better prepared should my connection to this world be severed again.” Abel could barely feel confused before sweet unconsciousness took hold and he knew no more.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Rusl awoke abruptly.

He wasn't entirely sure what had woken him, but something was definitely distinctly different.

Was Hana crying? No. But something was rumbling, a rhythmic sound that was loud and vibrated gently against him as it emitted from somewhere in the bed.

Rusl blinked his eyes open, scrunching his nose as fur tickled it.

Snoring. He was woken up by snoring.

Slowly, Rusl raised his head just a little to look at the bundle of fur snuggled between him and Uli. Link had been unable to turn back into a Hylian yesterday due to the sleet, which, based on the pitter patter on the roof, had likely continued into the early morning. Uli and Rusl had warmed him up and let him stay with them, neither parent felt comfortable just leaving him resting on the floor in front of the fire. Somehow, though, Link had taken far more space on the bed as a wolf than he ever had as a Hylian, and Rusl was nearly about to fall off the bed this morning.

Link snored again, a loud, ridiculous sound that might as well have been a bulbin battle cry. Biting the inside of his cheek, he glanced upward a little farther to see Uli already on her side, head propped in her hand, trying her absolute best not to burst out laughing.

"So this is the true curse of the shadows," Rusl surmised quietly.

Uli couldn't help the snort that erupted out of her, and she quickly descended into a fit of giggles.

[bokettochild]

Sorry this is like 600 words instead of 500, but this is one of my favorite interpretations of Twilight's backstory ever, and I would love to hear more (given I've understood the prompt right, which I hope that I have). This is from Rope Burns.  “I grew up on a military base,” Twilight snorts, “trust me, soldiers are as dumb as rocks.” 

  And well, Legend having a family isn’t that crazy in comparison to that. 

  Warriors starts, staring at the rancher, blinking slowly as though still trying to process the words of the other. “I’m sorry- you what?” 

  “I thought you grew up in Ordon?” Wild questions, turning to his mentor, confusion on clear display. 

  Yeah, Wind has a feeling that Wild’s story is well and truly over now, but he supposes it’s worth it. Learning something about their rancher is, he supposes, better than hearing the rest of the story the cook had already spoiled the ending too, especially as the limit of their knowledge about the rancher at this point is that he’s from Ordon, used to work as a ranch hand, and is descended from Time and Malon somehow. The fact that he’s a hero goes without saying, but the ranch hand nearly never shares anything about himself, even though he seems to love talking about his hometown and all the people in it, to the point where some of them feel they know the village and its residents already, despite still not having been there yet. 

  Yet, the rancher is grinning as he leans back, the sprig of hylian rice between his teeth bouncing some as he flashes a wolfish grin at them. “Well, yeah, sort of.” 

  “Sort of?” Time nudges his pup, looking thoroughly unimpressed. Their leader isn’t keen on them being cryptic with him, even though he frequently does so himself. The hypocrite. “Explain.” 

  The rancher chuckles, a nervous little thing, but obediently pulls himself up, resting his weight over his knees as he looks around the fire at all of them, eyes glinting slightly. “Well, y’see, I a’tually grew up in a citadel on the edge of Hyrule.” 

  Warriors jaw drops so fast. “Holy Hylia you’re a military brat.” 

 He can’t help it; he bursts into laughter. Yes, objectively, it’s funny to see Warriors so shocked, but from an outsider's perspective it is so, so much funnier because he’s met Warriors parents and sisters, and he’s seen for himself the proof that the captain is anything but the sissy city boy Twilight likes to accuse him of being. No, the captain was born in Hebra, so far out from cities that he thought Kakariko was huge. Meanwhile, it turns out their “country boy” actually grew up in a military base? Not the country? It turns out Twilight is the military brat and Warriors was the hill-billy? How the turn tables have turned! 

  The rest of the heroes stare at him, confused, but the captain just rolls blue eyes, pinching the tip of his ear to make him shut up. “Ignore him.” 

  Twilight’s dark gaze flicks between them, but apparently, he determines to listen to the captain for once. “Right, so, my dad was a’tually a knight from some family o’ knights or summat, an’ my mom comes from desert folk, so I grew up on the border studyin’ with other knights’ kids to take on our fathers’ duties ’n protect Hyrule one day.” 

 The stares are very, very evident by now, although Legend’s in particular is strangely intense, studying the other with his mouth half open like he’s got a question about the rancher’s words.  

 Broad shoulders shrug, a bit awkward as the rancher grins at them. “My friends growin’ up were dumber’n rocks, an’ every knight I’ve met since is the same, so yeah. Knights ‘re stupid.”

Ooh, this one will be fun!

So, I actually was taught, coming into the LU fandom, that Twilight was basically raised in Ordon, with some people saying he came as a small child, mayb Rusl found him as a baby, all aloe and needing care, or maybe he was brought there by the hero's shade when he was still small, but nearly every source I looked to in the fandom said Twilight was young when he, the only Hylian in the village, cae to Ordon.

But then I read the Twilight Princess Manga! Chapter 6 of the manga, aptly titled "Link's Past" shows us him as a young boy, about nine or ten, living, as Twi says in your selection, in a citadel on the hylian border. Twilight's explanation (telling his story to Rusl) in manga goes thus:

"As it bordered the desert, my old home town was responsible for frontier security. It was ruled by the Rufflio, a family of noble ancestry. Upon becoming adults, we were to protect the frontiers of Hyrule. The young boys, holding onto the pride of that duty, spent their days training in the ways of the sword." (Twilight Princess, Volume One, Chapter 6, by Akira Himekawa)

In the past, I've never had an opportunity to address that. if you follow my works, then you know I draw heavily on the manga in regards to Legend's history and past, but I write Twilight much less than legend (understatement of the year). That said, their manga's definitely give me a better take on their characters, whereas Four Swords and Minish Cap were more fun than informative, and Ocarina of Time just made me think Time was a pain in the ass and a freaking weird kid (I have not finished the manga yet for that reason, despite owning it).

I wasn't really planning on talking about Twilight's past here at all, but it sort of sprung upon me in an inspired fit and I decided, what the heck? Why not!

The references to his mother being of the "desert folk" is in reference to how some people like to headcannon that twilight is part Gerudo, which I thoroughly enjoy and support! So, for fun, his mom is Gerudo.

His dad though? Well, you see, that comes up in the manga too! Not his dad specifically, but actually, Ashei's! The TP manga actually has Ashei tell Twilight that she is one of the last descendants of the Knights of Hylia (also known as the Knights of Hyrule, depending on the translation/game version), and that Snowpeak fortress is actually their ancestral home!

Now, you may be saying "Ketto, I've heard of the Knights of Hylia before, or at least, I think I have?" and if you've been around my blog/fics enough, you sure as sugar have! the Knights of Hylia are, famously, the group of knights who worked beside the sages mentioned in A Link to the Past to seal Ganon away! More importantly though, they're the descendants and carriers of the legacy of the Hero of Time!

So, if Twilight is cannonically Time's descendant, that would mean that one of his parents was likely from the families that made of the Knights of Hylia! Mystery solved!

Additionally, this would make him and Ashei very distant cousins. And for extra kicks, since Legend is also, famously, descended from the same line of knights (albeit in another timeline) he would also be their cousin! I've been tempted to address that for forever, especially with the Snowpeak detail, because honestly, I get a kind of Kaer Morhen vibe from it and SO want to play with that, but I digress!

Twilight's ancestry is part Gerudo, for fun, and descended from Time, which is fun I don't have to create because it's cannon! He grew up on the edges of Hyrule for the most part, and when he talks aout being picked on by the other kids in this fic, it's because they are sort of aggressie to him in the flashbacks he has in the manga. Granted they're a bunch of boys aged 10-13, so they're all a bit aggressive to each other, but I imagine, being probably the only part Gerudo among them, he did get picked on at least a bit, hence the premise of this fic :)

-

Bonus! Legend's staring is, in fact, because he really, really, really wants to ask twilight which Knight Family he hails from. He is making a connection and he's not sure what to think about it LOL

Warriors on the other hand, who I fervently headcanon as Celtic, is, like Wind, realizing that a reverse-uno has been played here. He, a peasant from the far north and abject poverty, is traveling with the descendant of a famed family of well respected knights who was likely living in a major trading town (thus likely rather well off) and yet somehow, he's the one who get's labeled the stuck up city kid, and Twilight is believed to be the home grown honest backwoods farmer fella. I actually posted a few things about that while writing this thing, and I may or may not visit that idea more fully in a fic one day, but yeah, that's what's going on for our vet and captain right here.

Thanks for choosing this one! I actually had a lot I wanted to share about it and hadn't been able to before! And the fact that this is a recent one I can actually remember working on definitely helps LOL

[wild-dagon]

There is one amazing linked universe fanfiction on AO3 that I can’t remember the name of but it’s a Wild join the chain story.

Wild’s slate goes crazy and 8 of his shrines are different colors. He goes to investigate the one closest to Kakariko and finds Wind and a broken shrine. He then goes on a journey to find all the other members of the Chain through Hyrule (with a lot of Wild angst) I just can’t remember the name of it (it haunts me)

However it has birthed my own brain child. What if it’s not the chain that gets scattered across Wild’s Hyrule but their loved ones.

Botw has a lot of locations that call back to old games that could make this very fun.

Let’s say the Chain arrived in BOTW and Wild is so relieved because the step out of the portal just outside of Hateno village and he’s like “what a stock of luck” and takes everyone to his house. They are all able to relate and they think the goddess is giving them a break.

But while they are relaxing Wild’s slate starts beeping. He pulls it out only to see something weird. There is a new glowing symbol on his map. One he recognizes but shouldn’t be on his map. He calls Time over and shows him his slate, he wants to confirm what he’s seeing. Time looks at the slate to see Lon Lon Ranch’s little cow symbol flashing on Wild’s screen.

After a little bit of discussion (no that’s not supposed to be to be there. Yes it just appeared) they decided to go check it out. Wild can only teleport with one passanger and there is no way Time is letting him go alone (these are his kids) and the isn’t letting anyone else go (it has to do with Lon Lon ranch)

The two of them teleport over to the Wetland stables and start making their way over to the Ranch Ruins. Wild tells Time that they have to be cautious because there is a Guardian in the area. But as they approach they can see that the guardian is already on alert and the Bokoblins near by are also agitated.

Wild and Time pause to try and take in the situation when Time spots a flash of red hair. His heart drops because it can’t be. He points it out to Wild and asking him to use his slate to get a better look. As soon as Wild does he can see a terrified Malon hiding in the ruins of the ranch trying to stay as quiet and still as possible.

The two rush in to save her (wild handling the guardian with an ancient arrow and time quickly dispatching the Bokoblins). Malon is shaken but unharmed. She tells them that a portal opened up under her feet and dropped her into the ranch ruins.

They make their way back ti the stable. Time wants Wild to teleport her to Hateno immediately but Wild and Malon are both against leaving him alone in Wild’s Hyrule. They agree to make it back to the safety of the stables and then Wild will take Malon to Hateno before returning for time. (Deportation with passengers is also hard in his body and he doesn’t want to take the risk of passing out in a dangerous location when he’s their only way out).

They call Wind on the way back so the Chain is waiting for them at the Shrine. Wild’s exhausted from the teleporting and Twulight helps him back to the house as the boys lead Malon to Wilds home. They whole way there they are wonder why Malon is here? And more importantly will anyone else come through?

Yes.

I think Ravio will come through for Legend (his little bunny symbol appearing in the map) he appears on Eventude Island because of course he does and Legeand is flipping out because that’s the name of HER island and he can’t lose anyone else (you could also have Marine appear here or just do the angst of Legend worrying about losing someone else to the island)

For Twilight you could do it one of two ways the Oridon symbol appears and they go to find Rusl (and maybe his whole family) if it’s them I would put them in one of four places: by the broken mirror by Lurelin village. Maybe in the Faron woods or the Damel forest as they are both in the Faron province. Or somewhere in Akkala because u want someone to go to Tarry town. But I think the best place to put them would be Arbiter’s ground just because it’s such an iconic place in TP. (You could also do Midna near the mirror)

For Sky it’s obviously Sun (his Zelda) and I would put her in the forgotten temple. It’s to perfect and almost tomb like plus with all the guardians it makes for a stressful place for her to be. Especially if you put the shrine on the fritz. Even if it’s not she probably would have triggered some of the guardians but trying to leave.

Wind would be Tetra or Aryll and I would put them near Lurelin village as it is the most like their game or you could throw them somewhere completely different and put them in the dessert. (I need a good place to put them)

For Hyrule you could put Dawn (the princess from his first game the red head (right I’ve never been sure which was which)) or Aurora (the Zelda from Link’s adventure the one who slept for 100 years, the brunette?) or both in to the Typhlo ruins (the island that is shrouded in darkness) I think they would be really freaked out by that place.

For Four you could do Dot (or maybe Shadow) I’m not sure where to put them. Maybe somewhere cold since Four struggles in cold environments or maybe they are the ones that go to Akkala.

For Warriors it’s either, Artemis, Lana, or Linkle and they are in the castle. Or the Garrison ruins but I think the castle is the worst location for them.

Basically the links are rushing to their loved ones side and Wild is tagging a long as guide and transport. The bigger the group the harder it is on Wild and they have to do some traveling to get to a safe place to teleport the group one at a time. Some will have more travel time than others.

You can also have Flora trying to help out and find loggings for everyone.

[smilesrobotlover]

Whumptober day 5- Secrets Reveal

Alright buckle up folks this one is a wild ride. It’s a bit longer and not suuuuper well written but hey, I hope the action isn’t clunky 😭 action is HARD

Warnings: blood, control, walking off a cliff, injury, idk it’s a dark one😭

~~~~

The ruins were a maze. There were some open areas with broken walls scattered about, but there were also labyrinths of walls that led into different rooms or to cliff sides that almost killed Leon. He and Linebeck tried desperately to find Rusl and Kass, but no matter how much they called or how much they searched the area, there was no sign of them. Leon was getting more and more worried for them, not knowing if they were being attacked now or if they were dead, but he prayed it wasn’t the latter. When they ran into yet another dead end, Leon groaned, smacking the brick with his hand in frustration.

“This is taking too long!” He turned to Linebeck. “Boost me up the wall, I need a better view.”

Linebeck nodded and put his hands together, kneeling to the ground so Leon could climb on. Leon was boosted up to the top of the broken wall, and he scrambled over it so he could stand on his feet. The walls were thick, so he didn’t have to balance too much, but the snow was slick, so he couldn’t be careless. He kneeled and planted his feet the best he could, reaching for Linebeck’s hand.

“Uh, I think I’ll just stay down here,” he muttered, not taking Leon’s hand.

“I’m not leaving you alone, now get up here!” Leon commanded, and Linebeck sighed, taking his hand and crawling up the wall. The man clearly did not like being on top of the tall walls, and his legs shook as he followed Leon along the wall. It was nice being able to see above the ruins, but he couldn’t catch sight of Rusl’s green scarf or Kass’s blue feathers. He treaded carefully, being sure to make sure the steps in front of him didn’t send him slipping off onto the ground, but he did try to move as quickly as he was able. Linebeck suddenly grabbed onto him, nearly causing him to lose balance.

“Linebeck!” He scolded, pulling away from the man.

“Sorry, I slipped and almost died,” he explained, his voice shaky.

“Well don’t grab onto me or else we’ll both fall!”

“I had to hang onto something!”

Leon rolled his eyes and continued. “You won’t die if you fall, it’s not that high up. Honestly you need to toughen up. It’ll be hard to fall anyw—“

Leon’s foot slipped underneath him, and he gasped as he fell on his back and toppled over onto the snowy ground. The landing wasn’t painful in the snow, but his back ached from where it hit the wall. He sat up, rubbing his spine to alleviate the pain while Linebeck stared at him. Leon looked up, giving him a threatening look.

“Don’t you dare say anything,” he warned, but Linebeck finally snorted, covering his mouth as he laughed at Leon.

“Oh, it’ll be hard to fall, huh?” He taunted, continuing to chuckle while Leon dusted snow out of his hair.

“Quiet before I knock you over!” Leon threatened, but as usual with his threats, they were empty. Leon stood and reached his hand up. “Help me.”

Linebeck sighed and kneeled carefully on the wall, reaching only for him to pull back to readjust his legs.

“Linebeck, what are you doing?” Leon exasperated.

“I’m just trying to make sure I don’t fall over when I help you up!” He defended, continuing to readjust himself. Leon groaned and looked behind him, where he was barely able to see a green scarf disappear behind a wall. He gasped and pulled away just as Linebeck reached out once again.

“Rusl!” He shouted, but the man didn’t respond. Leon turned to Linebeck and gestured for him to get on the ground. “Get down here, hurry!”

“O-ok,” Linebeck muttered, shakily and slowly crawling down the wall. Leon rolled his eyes and grabbed onto his coat, pulling him down so he’d fall onto the soft snow. Linebeck yelped as he fell, and he gave Leon a dirty look when he sat up, but the man ignored it and instead dragged the sailor to where he saw Rusl. He was afraid that Rusl didn’t hear him with his small ears, and that he would lose him in this labyrinth, but to his relief, he found Rusl in a yard area near a cliffside. Rusl was standing, staring at the view in front of him which was odd, but Rusl was an odd man, so Leon ignored the behavior out of his mind and jogged up to him.

“Thank the goddesses I found you,” Leon said, just a few feet behind him. “Where’s Kass?”

Rusl didn’t respond, he just kept staring. Leon squinted his eyes and gave Linebeck a look, stopping him from stepping closer.

“Rusl, what’s going on?” Leon pressed, stepping more cautiously towards him. He reached his hand out to rest on his shoulders, but as soon as he touched him, Rusl spun around, the blade of his sword missing him by a hair as Leon jumped back. A gasp was heard from Linebeck, and Leon drew his own sword, barely able to block Rusl’s attacks.

“Rusl! What the heck man!” Linebeck shouted, and Leon kicked his friend away, jumping in front of the sailor.

“This has to be the puppeteer’s work,” he said, holding his sword against Rusl who stared at him with a hostile look. It gave him chills, but he knew that it couldn’t be the real Rusl. The puppeteer always had puppets that he would use against them. Several times copies of his friends or others would attack him, but the puppets were always weak. One kick or stab and they would melt into the clay they were made out of. It really wasn’t a threat to them, but it didn’t make it any less disturbing seeing his kind-hearted friend look at him with hatred and bloodlust in his eyes. Leon glanced back at Linebeck, pushing him back further behind him.

“I’ll take care of this,” he explained, “stay back and stay safe.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” Linebeck muttered, and rushed back behind a wall. Leon returned his attention to the puppet, who was pacing back and forth. He only hoped the real Rusl was somewhere safe.

As soon as Leon was ready to fight, puppet Rusl charged at him, once again swinging his sword at him. Leon dodged and swung his own sword, which was quickly blocked. The two clashed weapons together, sparks flying and ears ringing from the high pitched sound of metal scraping against each other. It was difficult to get the upper hand; puppet Rusl would swing his sword, Leon would block, and then he would try to land a hit, only for him to block it as well. Leon would try to get an opening large enough for him to throw a punch or kick, since puppets tend to fall apart from that type of force, but puppet Rusl would recover quickly enough to stop him from trying. While trying to land a hit with an opening, puppet Rusl almost lobbed off his head, and Leon growled as he swung his leg to trip puppet Rusl. He landed in the snow and Leon scrambled to his feet to finish him once and for all, but he once again recovered quickly, rolling out of Leon’s reach. Losing his patience, Leon ran up to him, kicking him as quickly as he could, which he was finally successful in doing. Puppet Rusl grunted against the impact, and while he was distracted, Leon swung his sword. The puppet dodged, but the tip of Leon’s sword grazed his cheek, and he toppled back from the hit.

Leon let out a satisfied huff, glancing at his sword. But where he was expecting the strange goop the puppets were made out of, he saw blood, dripping off the tip and landing in the snow, staining it red. Wait…

Dread clenched Leon’s throat as he stared in horror. Puppets weren’t supposed to bleed. He glanced up only to see Rusl grinning at him, blood pouring from the cut on his cheek.

“Why so surprised?” He asked in a mocking tone, stepping up and punching him hard in the face. Leon fell back, staring at his friend who now walked confidently. Confident to know that they weren’t fighting to the death anymore… or… at least Leon wasn’t. This wasn’t a puppet made to look like Rusl, it was Rusl who was the puppet.

“You—“ Leon snarled, anger towards the puppeteer stronger than ever. “How dare you use him like that!”

Rusl grinned, swinging his sword at Leon who dodged. It was like that for a while, with Rusl attacking while Leon dodged, terrified of raising his sword at his friend. He didn’t know what to do. How was he going to break the puppeteer’s grasp on Rusl? How was he going to keep himself from getting killed without hurting Rusl? When Rusl sliced his cheek, Leon ran back, taking cover where Linebeck sat anxiously.

“What the heck is happening?” Linebeck asked, and Leon let out a huff, trying to clear his head.

“The-the puppeteer is controlling him!” He explained, moving Linebeck as they ran from possessed Rusl.

“He can do that?”

“Yes… I… I don’t know what to do.”

A rock was thrown in their direction, and Leon ducked down with Linebeck following.

“We need to go after the puppeteer if he’s the one controlling him,” Linebeck suggested. Leon nodded, pulling the man behind a wall and grabbing both his arms to look him in the eyes.

“It’s the only way, but I want you to stay here out of sight. I’m going to try to lead him away from you and find the puppeteer—“

“You can’t go off on your own! What are you, stupid?” Linebeck protested, stepping away from the wall, but Leon held him back.

“I’m not risking you getting hurt, now stay right here and—“

Linebeck suddenly grabbed Leon and pulled both of them away as Rusl appeared behind him, swinging his sword at them. The metallic shriek of his sword hitting the brick wall rang out, and the two fell onto the snow. Leon scrambled to get on top of Linebeck, just in time to block the attacks raining onto them. As soon as Rusl left an opening, Leon lunged, latching onto the man in an attempt to tackle him to the ground, but Rusl was stubborn and remained on his feet. They wrestled for a moment before Rusl pulled his arm away, stabbing his sword at Leon. There was a slight, sharp pain in his side, but Leon ignored it as he grabbed Rusl’s sword arm and pulled him close. In one motion, he tilted his sword so his hilt was facing Rusl, and he slammed it into his abdomen. It was a trick that he learned that could knock out his opponent for several minutes, and he prayed that it would work on Rusl so he’d stop attacking.

Rusl stumbled back, his eyes blinking furiously and he stared dazed at the ground, but soon his body lurched towards Leon, continuing his attacks. It was clear that Rusl was unconscious from the move, but the puppeteer still had control of his body, with the attacks more vicious than before. Had Rusl been holding back the entire time? Did Leon just make things worse trying to knock out his friend? He gasped and cursed as he nearly had his head lobbed off again, trying to keep up with the flurry of attacks aimed at him. It was difficult to keep up with, and he let out a yell as his foot caught on a rock, sending him to the ground. He couldn’t react in time as he watched Rusl raise his sword, his eyes still dazed, and he flinched as it was swung down.

“Oh no you don’t!”

Leon looked up to see Linebeck grabbing hold of Rusl, stopping his attack and pulling him away. Rusl squirmed violently in his hold, his arms swinging around in an attempt to grab at Linebeck, but he remained firm and kept him off the ground. Leon scrambled to his feet just as Rusl elbowed Linebeck’s face, causing him to finally be dropped. He was about to stab Linebeck before Leon wrapped his arms around him, the two men trying to contain Rusl. Finally, he broke free, staggering back and panting heavily as he glared at Leon and Linebeck. Leon had his sword drawn, protecting himself and Linebeck.

“Get out of my friend’s head,” Leon said in a dark voice, stepping closer to him, which caused Rusl to step back. This time, Rusl ran with Leon following, and they found each other in an open area by a cliffside. Rusl continued to pant, his body clearly pushed past its limits. His eyes were empty, but a hint of defeat and anger rested in his expression as he watched Leon like a cornered animal. In one last attempt of victory, he charged at Leon, swinging his sword down on his head, which Leon blocked easily. He twisted his sword around and sent Rusl’s sword flying out of his hands, and he was finally unarmed. Linebeck ran to the discarded sword and picked it up, standing defensively. Rusl quickly backed up, looking around desperately, until he let out a defeated sigh.

“I can’t kill you with him as my weapon,” he muttered, standing up straight. Leon brought his sword up again, expecting another attack. “But I can kill him.”

He was too far for Leon to reach as he stepped backwards, letting himself fall off the edge of the cliffside.

“NO!” Leon screamed as he sprinted to catch him, but it was too late. He could only watch, his stomach plummeting as Rusl fell out of his view, falling to the snowy ground below.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hallway Kass was walking through was drastically different from the rest of the ruins. The inside was perfectly intact with it leading to several different rooms, the torches were lit up giving out a soft orange glow, and it was generally clean. Kass looked in every room, but the puppeteer wasn’t anywhere, and he was beginning to question if he actually saw the man walk in here or not. But he heard a voice that spoke a few times that proved to Kass that he wasn’t alone, and he followed to where he heard it. Kass didn’t have the good hearing Hylians had, but the talking was able to lead him to a small closet under the stairs. Kass opened it as softly as he could, spotting the puppeteer who had his back turned to Kass, hunched over a blue light coming from his hands. He was breathing heavily, with a few grunts coming from him, and he didn’t seem to hear Kass walking carefully towards him. Kass picked up a rock, his heart pounding against his chest as he hesitated near the puppeteer. He could kill him here and now…. But….

Kass was always a pacifist. He wanted to play music, not to fight; he wanted to sing for his family, not to shoot a bow. But he couldn’t let the puppeteer go, he couldn’t let him continue torturing the men and the Links. Kass sucked in a breath and raised the rock, looking away as he swung it down on the puppeteer’s head. He let out a grunt as he tumbled to the ground, the light from his hands disappearing. Kass backed up from the puppeteer as he scrambled to his feet, rubbing his head painfully. His one-eyed mask glanced up at Kass, staring almost as if he were in shock from what he did to him.

“Y-you—where did—augh!” The puppeteer held his head where he was hit, pressing himself up against the wall. Kass glared at him and used his height to his advantage, trying to intimidate the man.

“You attacked us first!”

The puppeteer stared at him, clearly shocked, but he scrambled to his feet, standing in a defensive position despite clearly being disoriented.

“And what was your plan?” He asked cooly.

“Where are the Links?”

“Clearly not here.”

Kass glared, stepping closer. “Why did you attack me?”

The puppeteer cocked his head to the side.

“You’re just full of questions, aren’t you?”

Kass frowned, not knowing how to respond to such a strange comment. The puppeteer shook his head, sliding on the wall.

“I wasn’t expecting such a…violent action from you,” he started, before letting out a dark chuckle. “It was a valiant effort, but… you were too late.”

Kass’s eyes widened when the puppeteer suddenly lunged at him, a knife in his hand. He let out a yelp as he fell, and he brought his talons out and scratched at his face. His claws landed a hit on the puppeteer’s face, tearing his mask and chunks of skin off, causing the man to cry out in pain. The puppeteer fell off of him and quickly collected his mask before disappearing in a puff of smoke, leaving Kass alone. He scrambled to his talons and bolted out of the ruins, the puppeteer’s words echoing through his mind.

You were too late.

Too late? Too late for what? He took flight as soon as he went outside, ignoring the pain in his left wing. In the air, he searched the area, trying to find the others as quickly as he could, and to his dismay, he found them.

All of them at the base of a cliff side, with one laying on his back.

No.

Kass landed next to them, his breathing heavy as he stared at Leon hunched over Rusl. No, no no no…

“Wh-what happened?” He asked frantically, his voice already breaking. Leon barely acknowledged him, his face blank as he checked Rusl’s pulse, but Linebeck turned to the Rito, his face pale.

“Th-the puppeteer was controlling him and… he—he threw Rusl off the cliff and—“

Linebeck’s breath hitched, and Kass’s eyes widened. He was too late.

“He’s… is he…?”

“He’s not dead,” Leon said simply, checking over the rest of Rusl’s body. Kass let out a sigh of relief, noticing Rusl’s shallow breathing, though it hurt to hear him struggle to breath. “He’s terribly injured though. The snow cushioned his fall, but not enough.”

Leon rested back on his feet, not taking his eyes off his friend. It grew uncomfortably silent, the only sound being Rusl taking in rattling breaths. His ribs must’ve been broken.

“What do we do?” Linebeck asked, kneeling next to Leon, and he let out a breath.

“We… I…” Leon frowned as he tried to think of something, but he took in a deep breath, then let it out, then sucked in another one, letting it free after a few seconds. He did that for a moment with Kass and Linebeck watching him, and he finally stopped, his eyes on Kass.

“We need to get him down to Talon, but it’s too risky to carry him in such a state,” he began to explain, “his neck could be broken, so… Kass… if I could make a stretcher that you could carry so you could fly him down the mountain—“

“Of course, I can do that,” Kass jumped in, ignoring his aching wing. It wasn’t broken, and he could easily glide down the mountain if it meant saving his friend. Leon nodded and hunched over Rusl again, whose eyes were fluttering open.

“You stay alive, you hear me?” He ordered, and Rusl blinked a few times before closing them, Kass assuming that it was a nod. Leon got up and gestured for Kass to help him, and with Linebeck keeping an eye on Rusl, the two searched the ruins for rope and planks. Fortunately it wasn’t too difficult to find, and Leon built a sturdy stretcher with rope attached to a branch that Kass could hang onto. With enough wiggling to make sure it wouldn’t fall apart, the two returned to Linebeck and Rusl. Linebeck was cradling his neck, the two shivering as the sun dropped behind the mountains.

“Help me put him on there,” Leon muttered, setting the stretcher down and grabbing Rusl’s legs. Kass helped lift him up while Linebeck continued to cradle his neck, but Rusl still hissed in pain. Leon took off his scarf and wrapped it around Rusl’s neck when he was set down, his eyes open again but looking glassy as he stared at the sky. The scarf was packed firmly to keep his neck from moving, and Leon took off his coat as well to tuck around the shivering man.

“Woah woah, Leon, what are you doing?” Linebeck cut in, but Leon ignored him as he began to wrap rope around Rusl to keep him secure to the stretcher. Linebeck put his hand on Leon to get his attention. “You’re gonna get hypothermia without your coat!”

“I’ll be fine,” he muttered, not taking his eyes off of his work. Finally, he tied ropes around the stretcher so that it would be even when lifted off, and he grabbed the end for Kass to hang onto with his talons. “Be careful with him.”

Kass nodded as he grabbed the end, but frowned at the two. “What about you guys? I can't leave you stranded on the mountain.”

“We’ll be fine,” Leon reassured, “but Rusl needs help now. Please just… make sure he’s ok.”

Kass was hesitant, but he knew realistically that he couldn’t carry all of them with Rusl severely injured, even with a wing that didn’t hurt. He stood up, taking to the skies as gently as possible, with Leon and Linebeck helping him keep Rusl steady. Soon, he was high up in the sky, gliding carefully down the mountain, with Leon and Linebeck growing smaller and smaller until they were but little dark spots on the white snow.

[snzgay]

In Need of Care

Ok! Trying something new because I wanna and I'm inspired. This is derived a lot from audio roleplay scripts and some absolutely awesome posts by @sky-snz who's writing is INCREDIBLE!

Key for readers and maybe if someone voices this (a gal can dream)

"text" character lines, speaking, character sounds

*asterisks* SFX and not vocal character sounds

(parenthesis) specific direction for how to deliver certain lines

(...) listener speaking

Bold emphasis

Italics optional additional effects

Script is fully gender neutral, speakers default tone is quite surly and snippy, speaker does not seem to like the listener very much.

Script:

Office noise

*knock knock knock*

(congested voice muffled by door) "ugh, combe id."

Door opening and closing

(subdued distain) "*sigh* what is it you ndeed this ti- Oh it's you."

(Distain becomes less subdued) "What do you wandt? Id case you havnd't ndoticed I'mb a bit-*snrF* a bit busy."

(...)

"'yOu ShOuLdN't Be HeRe WhIlE yOu'Re SiCk' Yeah well ndewsflash sundshide I ndever-hh..*snf* I ndever ahsked for...f-forh-..heh..hEh! He'AATChiEWWwW! -For your opidiond."

*wipes nose with their sleeve*

"ngh*snrk*...."

(pause)

"...what?"

(...)

(voice raised)"-! I kndow that!-*coughing**gasp*-aASHieWW!..-hih-hiH-hIH-hiAShHOOO!!"

"*snRf*-ugh...*ahem* I kndow that. Do you really thidk I'mb ndot paindfully aware of how mbuch of a 'mbess' ,as you so tactfully put it; I amb?"

"The last thigg I wadt is to be seen-*scrubs their nose with the cuff of their coat, grumbling with frustration at the persistent tickle* snduffligg ad scrubbigg at mby ndose with the sleeve of mby blazer; I simbply have ndothigg else to use."

"I-*snff* rad out of tissues a few hours ago. So ndow I-...I..hhh'iEShieWWw!!-heEySCHOO'oo!! UgH!! I'mb just stuck here, scrubbigg mby ndose raw with mby cuffs undtil all this idnferdal paperwork is sorted, because I amb the only ode who does adythigg id this endtire buiLDI-!!*harsh coughing*"

*more coughing*

*coughing peters to a stop, followed by a hoarse and exhausted groan*

(lowers their head down onto their arms, utterly drained of energy)

(defeated, talking more to themselves than the to the listener)"...why amb I eved telligg you this? It's ndot like it mbakes a difference...*snrfl*Hell, givend how I treat you, I would't be surprised if the reasod you have't left already is because seeigg mbe suffer ambuses you.*snf*"

(sits back up after a moment)

*deep crackly sigh* "Just go away, I dod't have the timbe to entertaid you with mby mbisery." *Wipes nose with sleeve again*

Footsteps towards the speaker, soft rusling of fabric

(...)

"GrrwhAT?! Did't I just tell you t-huh?"

(listener offers something) "...oh umb...a hadkerchief. You're...you're givigg this to mbe?

(hesitant and nervous, almost suspicious) "...Tha-thadk you...I-I'll just-hh juhst-huhh..huH-hAH!-"

(cups the cloth over their nose and mouth) "HAtShHEeWWw!!! Hah..eH-EH-eEH'ShiiEwW!-eKshieW!"

"hOgod-EKSheW! Icad't-huh-'HuStCHIEeww!!!"

(briefly lowers kerchief) "ndeedto-*snK*hh*sRnk*...hEHK-*harsh noseblow*!...euhh..."

Paper flipping

(exhausted but a little less congested)"*snf* ugh, what are you doing now?"

(..?)

(confused)"Yes, those are the papers I need to get through. Why?"

(...)

(confused) "you can do...(Realization) WhAt?!-*cough cough, ahem* what??"

(...)

"you'd...do themb for mbe?(Hesitant to hope) Like fill themb out individually with all the proper information ad scan them ad-ad mbake sure they each get sent to the correct people in proper order ad...why?"

(...)

"Because I'mb sick and I should go rest...why do you care?? You don't owe mbe anythigg, ad I've been ndothigg but *snf* rude ad hostile since you eh-entehred -ehHshYoo!"

(...)

(relenting)"Alright alright fide, it's all yours! Guess that means I cad..leave?"

(...!)

"yes yes 'go hombe ad rest' I heard you the first tibe, I'm goigg just let me grab mby thiggs."

Gathering stuff

Walking, door opening

"...hey, uh....*ahem* thadk you."

(...^^)

"-!...okseeyoumondaybye!"

Door closes

(muffled through the door) "-xTshOo!"

The end!

Pt2

[imagineaspen]

Below the cut is a short one-shot written for the prompt: Constellation

This is meant to take place about midway through Twilight Princess (i.e. after zelda's sacrifice)

“Why do you spend so much time looking at the sky?”

Link, lying with his back in the sand, turned to her with surprise in his eyes.

“Is that a serious question?”

Midna winced.  Weeks ago, it would not have been; would have been the start of a quip, to berate him for wasting time, or for losing on sleep when he needed to be fully alert to find the Fused Shadows for her.  But now… she did not know if it was only the influence of Princess Zelda on her, but she wanted to try.  She wanted to know him, to understand him.

“Yes,” she said quietly.

Link rolled back to face skyward, letting out a peaceful sigh. 

“Not the sky,” he said.  “The stars.”

She looked up at the twinkling lights shining against the black of the night sky.  She’d never seen stars in the Twilight Realm;  its sky was always the same half-darkness of twilight, too light for stars.  The first time she had seen the stars in the Light World’s sky, she had thought them an ugly distraction, like thousands of tiny eyes following her everywhere she went.

“We’ve come all the way to the Gerudo Desert,” Link continued.  “The farthest I’ve ever been from Ordon Village. But I can see the same stars.”

“How can you know that?” she retorted.  “They all look the same.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, her face warmed in shame.  She was trying to be better, but she kept reaching for this rudeness and hostility.  Link, however, only chuckled.

“Not true,” he said.  “There are shapes in the stars, if you know where to look.”  

She frowned, looking at the sky and seeing nothing.   “Show me,” she ordered.

Link glanced at her again, before gesturing next to him.  She floated next to him, then positioned herself to lie at his side (hovering just a bit above the ground, of course.  She did not want to get sand in her hair).

“Alright,” he said.  He seemed to think for a moment, then pointed at something in the sky.  “See that star, there?  The one that’s sort of blue?”

Midna squinted, trying to look where he pointed.  “Maybe,” she said.

“Alright, so, if you follow up from that star, you can kind of make a line, see? And if you go right, to that small star there, then down, diagonally…”  He continued like this, tracing lines in the sky while Midna tried her hardest to follow, eventually ending at the same blue star they’d started on. 

“Then it kind of looks like a woman wearing a dress,” Link finished.

 “What? No, it doesn’t.”

Link snorted.  “You need to be more open minded,” he said.  “Anyway, it’s meant to be a goddess called Hylia.”

“Like the lake?”

Link shrugged.  “I guess so. I was never very religious.”

Midna continued to look at the stars.  Nothing about what Link had pointed out for her looked like a woman.  It looked more like a pair of triangles.

No, something whispered within her.  Look harder.  (Were they her own thoughts, that she heard sometimes in her mind, or Zelda’s?  She was finding it harder and harder to tell.)

“I see it,” she said finally.  “Sort of.”

“Now start from that star,” Link said, pointing to another one.  “And go left…”

He continued, showing her shape after shape in the sky. 

A giant whale, apparently a Zora god.

Death Mountain, spewing out a cloud of smoke and lava.

A hero of old, bow trained on an ancient entity remembered only as the Demon King.

A majestic ram, the light spirit Ordona.

So many shapes, and so many stories.  Midna had been wrong – the stars were pretty.

“And that one,” said Link, “is a cucco.”

“You just made that up!”

He laughed.  “Maybe,” he said.  “But it could be, couldn’t it?”

Midna smiled despite herself.  “How do you know all this?”

“Rusl taught them to me when I was a child,” he said.  “He used to say that no matter how far you are from someone, as long as you can see the same stars, you aren’t truly apart.  I like to imagine him looking up at these same stars, right now.  Him, or Colin, or Ilia…”  He sighed.  “That’s why I look at the sky.”

Midna was quiet for a moment.  Link’s eyes shuttered, and she realized, with a twisting in her stomach, that he was waiting for her to make fun of him.   She inched closer, then placed a hand on his arm.

“I think… that’s a beautiful thought, Link,” she said.

He turned to her, now grinning.  He looked younger when he smiled, boyish.  Midna hated herself once again for dragging him into what should have been her problem to solve. 

“I still haven’t shown you my favourite one,” he said.  He guided her once again, tracing a new shape in the sky.  “Can you guess what it is?”

How could anyone guess what any of these are?  She stopped herself from saying it out loud.  You are trying, she thought sternly, to be better than that.

Some kind of animal, she decided as she squinted at the sky.  Four legs, and a line of stars that could have been a sweeping tail.   She gasped.

“It’s a wolf,” she said.

Link chuckled.  “Actually, it’s a horse,” he said, then tilted his head.  “It kind of looks like a wolf, though, doesn’t it?”

“That doesn’t look anything like a horse,” Midna argued. “I say it’s a wolf.”

“Look at that group of stars just above its back,” Link said.  “As a kid, I always thought that looked like someone riding the horse.” 

“I guess so,” she said.

“If it’s a wolf,” Link continued, “that could be you and me.”

She glanced to him, at the content look at his face, and decided that she quite liked the idea.

***

There were no stars in the Twilight Realm.  So Midna made her own.

She drew them with paint on her ceiling.   

When her chambermaid came into the room to clean, she looked to the mess Midna was making and brought a hand to her chest in shock.

“My Queen,” she said, aghast.  “Whatever are you doing?”

“Redecorating,” Midna said, her hands and clothes covered in white and yellow paint.

“Redecorating… by putting random dots all over the ceiling?”

“They aren’t random,” Midna said proudly.  “They make a wolf.  Look, I’ll show you.”

That night, and for many nights after, Midna lay in bed, looking up at her makeshift stars, and wondered.  

She wondered whether somewhere far away, though broken mirrors and across realms, someone else was looking at the same stars and missing her too.    

[aegon-targaryen]

Blue & Gold

Oneshot | 7.5K words | Post-TP zelink | read on AO3

The shadows are growing long, and someone is following him.

Humans make so much noise, no matter how hard they try to move with careful grace. Link crouches low beneath a bush of witch-hazel, yellow as a goldfinch this time of year but slightly dull to his limited vision, and he listens to the footsteps crunch across a carpet of dead leaves.

It must be Rusl. With any luck, he’s hunting for ordinary game, not the same quarry that still eludes Link. He left home without telling anyone about the corpses—foxes torn apart outside their dens, stags slaughtered at a stream’s edge—or about the creeping wrongness he never expected to sense in Faron Woods again. Rusl has come out here a couple times since. Link evaded him once, but this is the man who taught him to hunt. A few days ago, they locked eyes across a clearing, and Link wasted a few heartbeats hoping for recognition before Rusl reached for an arrow.

He'd rather not face that again. Link straightens silently and is about to slink away when a breeze rustles through the forest, smelling of soap richer than any villager could obtain and of the ink that always smudges her fingers. He’s frozen in place as the hunter comes into view.

Fine leather boots. The hem of a dark cloak. A longsword sheathed at her hip and a bow in her left hand. She’s gloved against the chill, but Link knows the back of her other hand bears a mark identical to the one on his shackled paw.

Foliage obscures her face, and he’s grateful, because he knows he’ll break the moment he sees it. He’ll come running the same way he pounded up that hill, heart hammering in his throat as the sun set over the stranger who had replaced the imp he’d known. It only took one crooked grin for him to realize that she was no stranger; she was his shadow, she was everything, she was—

Link presses his chin to his paws. That princess is gone. Why is this one here?

It can’t have anything to do with him. Not after that moment of instinctive contact in the castle’s shadowed hallway, the taste of coffee on her lips, the heat of her breath on his neck, the way she slammed open the door of her bedroom with a fervency he never expected. They fumbled to shed layers and layers until all Link could see were the scars of lightning splintering across her body, scars he inflicted. Then came the cold crash of clarity when they met each other’s eyes and found blue instead of Twili red, and the cracks in her composure widening with every step he took towards the door.

No. It can’t have anything to do with him.

One more step brings Zelda into full view. To his muted vision, she’s all contrast: white gloves beneath her black cloak, dark eyelashes downturned against creamy skin. There’s no crown on her head, no jewelry flashing at her neck or ears, but regality isn’t so easy to shed. Mistaking her for an ordinary woman would be like mistaking a wolf for a lamb.

She’s still studying the ground. Link realizes his mistake—on the way to his hiding place, he skirted around the muddy edge of a puddle that will advertise his trail as clearly as a painted sign. Zelda lifts her gaze to search the tangled undergrowth, and though he can’t perceive the flush of cold on her cheeks or the exact hue of her tunic, only death could blind him to her remarkably blue eyes.

She drums her fingers against her bow, then says tartly, “You’ve stained enough rugs for me to recognize your pawprints, Link.”

He creeps forward with a sigh of defeat, allowing the jangling chain to announce his presence. Zelda watches coolly as he emerges, shakes the leaves from his coat, and comes to sit at her feet. Close study shows him that while her grip eases on the bow, tension still lingers in her shoulders—secrets and subtleties, as always. She never makes herself easily known.

All three of them have that in common.

Despite the way they parted, despite everything that lies between them, Zelda kneels on the forest floor. Not for the first time, Link wishes she wouldn’t lower herself for him, but when she stretches out a hand, he can’t stop himself from pressing his head into her palm, can’t stop his stupid tail from wagging.

“Before you ask,” she says, “Rusl sent me a very concerned letter about how Faron’s wildlife is being slaughtered by some unnatural predator, and the only sign of you is a note that says to take care of Epona.”

Link huffs.

“It absolutely is my business. There’s talk all over Hyrule of a swordsman hunting down monster dens and roadside terrors, and I’ve left you to it, but the Resistance aided Hyrule when I could not. That makes me indebted to all its members. I may not rule this province, but I know the Twilight, and I know you. Rusl pins the killings on a wolf he encountered, Link. One he saw the same night Ordon’s children were taken.”

There’s humor in the irony, somewhere, but his throat constricts at the memory of his first night in this form, of Uli’s terror and Rusl’s vengeful grief as he swung the torch at Link. No one could fault them. Yet from the very start, Zelda saw the truth, and the people who raised him saw only the beast.

Link dips his head to avoid her gaze. Her fingers dig deep into the thick fur at the back of his neck, and she murmurs, “I am sorry, Link.”

She said that the day they met. If the apology was unwarranted then, it’s devastating now. He plants all four paws in the dirt, feeling her hand slide away as he begins to tease out the magic he’s meticulously learned to counter since Midna left him the shadow crystal without warning or instruction. Pain blooms beneath his eyelids and floods his mouth with copper, but it’s over fast, and then he’s running a hand over his face to brush away the disorientation.

Zelda waits, her lips pressed together inscrutably. If there’s anything good about being human, it’s the full-color shine of her rich brown hair in the sunlight.

“Whatever the killer is, it moves fast,” Link says at length, voice rough from disuse. “There’s no sense to the trail, so I keep losing it. I haven’t found anything but the corpses, and…”

“I know. I sense it too.”

Fear of a nameless evil, she called it during her captivity. Strange light and stranger shadows with a thousand eyes peering out of them. Considering that the last vestiges of Twilight disappeared months ago, he’s half-wondered if this dread is all in his mind, nightmares bleeding into waking hours. Zelda’s confirmation comes as a relief.

“How long have you been out here?” she asks.

Link stretches his arms over his head. “A week or so.”

“You haven’t considered returning to Ordon for help? A search party could cover much more ground.”

“A search party could also get killed.”

She narrows her eyes, stripping him bare just as he feared, reminding him of all the things that seem distant here in the quiet woods. “And you can’t?”

He would roll his eyes if Uli hadn’t raised him better. He gets to his feet and sticks out his hand, trying not to wince when Zelda rises without taking it.

“Show me the trail. If magic is at work here, I’ll be able to help.” She sees something in his face and adds, “If you are about to send me home—”

Link points across the clearing. “It’s that way, and no, I’m not stupid enough to try.”

Zelda’s lips twitch. She turns as though to conceal the smile, and Goddesses, he’s missed this: the intricacy of her, the way she challenges and surprises him. And beneath all that lies the safety of being with someone who faced the same enemy he did, who rode into battle wielding that bow like a slice of sun in her hands.

Her aid is probably more than he deserves, but she’s here. Even if has nothing to do with him, she’s here.

Link falls into step at her side and returns to the trail he was following before he caught wind of her approach. It’s a furrow of crushed undergrowth and snapped twigs, as though something charged through at top speed—sloppily, though, without the logic one would expect from an animal. The thick carpet of dead leaves keeps him from guessing exactly what the creature is, without any distinct prints left in the dirt. Still, there’s a clear enough lead for now.

“How’s court?” he asks after a while.

“Far better than it was a few months ago,” Zelda replies. Always the wry jokes. Always the implication that she owes him something, even though she fought for Hyrule as hard as she could.

“So…it’s terrible?”

“It’s tolerable.”

Only for someone raised to tolerate anything and everything, snarks a voice that sounds a great deal like Midna. With the castle lying half in ruins, the vultures have wasted no time in descending to pick its corpse clean—noblemen who spent the Twilight cowering in their estates, foreign princes looking to acquire a bride and a kingdom in one fell swoop. Zelda faces it all with cool austerity, guarding her scars with high collars and hardened eyes. Link can barely face his own village.

“You came alone?” he wonders, trying to keep his tone light.

“You know as well as anyone that my guards are more liability than asset. I left my horse with Epona.”

“With…oh.”

“Yes, I stopped by Ordon in case anything had changed since Rusl’s letter. He and Uli were very hospitable.” Zelda sneaks a glance at him. “And very worried about you.”

He tries to picture her sitting at that old wooden table with a bowl of Uli’s pumpkin stew, surrounded by the clutter and kindness that Link has taken for granted all his life. How callous he must seem to someone who has no family and very few people she can trust.  “They know I can take care of myself,” he mumbles.

“Is that so? Rusl wanted to accompany me to Faron, in case the beast had mauled you and was going to do the same to me.”

“How’d you talk him out of it?”

“I told him,” Zelda says archly, “that wolves do not frighten me.”

Link falters mid-step. So does she, but for a very different reason: there’s a dead thing at her feet, a mangled bundle of blood and bone hardly recognizable as a hare. Zelda crouches beside it. Golden light flares beneath her right glove, sparking something familiar in the mark on Link’s own hand.

“Is that how you found me?” he asks.

“That and your pawprints. You host a great deal of magic, Link. As does our killer.”

He surveys the gouges that ripped the poor hare apart and brushes away the leaves that surround its corpse. There are a handful of vague prints in the dirt beneath.

“Deer prints, or…maybe boar.” He tries not to recall the nightmarish beast he faced in the castle throne room. “But it’s probably a coincidence. Deer aren’t predators, and a boar wouldn’t leave the corpse uneaten.”

Zelda presses her glowing hand to her chest absently, tilting her head back to watch a cluster of leaves the color of Midna’s hair flutter down to earth.

“Something wrong?”

“No,” she answers quickly. “Only…whatever this thing is, I’d rather not face it after nightfall.”

Link glances up at the orange light that’s spread across the sky, matching the autumn forest. Darkness is no challenge for him, but not everyone has the senses of a wolf. “Back to Ordon, then?”

“All that way? If we spend the night here, we can start again at dawn before the beast gets too far away.”

“You don’t mind?” It’s strange enough to see her outside the castle, alone and unadorned. He heard enough complaining from Midna to know that wilderness is not a princess’s natural habitat. “It’ll be cold tonight.”

“My magic can keep me warm.” Zelda fiddles with her gloves for a moment, then adds quietly, “My mother used to take me camping.”

Link tries to conceal his surprise. She’s never told him anything like that, never handed him a piece of her past. Though he can’t fathom what he’s done to deserve her trust, he’ll be damned if he makes a mess of this too.

The sun has nearly fled by the time they reach the creekside cave where he’s taken shelter the past few nights. It keeps out the wind and the damp as well as anyone could hope for, though it feels abruptly cramped and shabby when he leads Zelda inside. Link has been a wolf more often than not since leaving Ordon, but he never adjusted to the idea of eating like one, so the goat cheese and pumpkin rolls that Uli gave to Zelda come as a delight after days of foraged berries and game cooked over a campfire.

They sit at the cave’s mouth and watch the last traces of daylight slip away past the black branches. He doesn’t have to ask what occupies Zelda’s mind at this hour. More than once at the castle, dusk would drag both their gazes to the windows, or to each other. Some days, the sheer sight of her cut like mirror shards. The nights, though—the nights were always easier.

“You can take my bedroll,” he tells her quietly. “I’ll be warm enough as a wolf.”

“You’ve gotten rather good with the shadow crystal,” Zelda says. “Quite the feat for someone with no magical training.”

Link shrugs, fiddling with the string on his neck, where Ilia’s horseshoe whistle rests beside a far more dangerous tool. When he touched the shadow crystal to his skin on one of the unbearable nights that followed Midna’s departure, he didn’t know if there was a way back to humanity without her help, or whether he wanted a way back. It took hours alone with the watchful moon and the crickets’ songs before he realized he couldn’t spend the rest of his life as a terror to everyone he met.

A terror to everyone but Zelda, at least.

His chest aches with a sudden, fierce gratitude towards her. That night, he did manage to brace himself against the magic and shake it free, and now he can step between forms in a way that feels entirely right. But even if he hadn’t been able to help himself, he knows where he would have gone—right to her door like a dog scraping to be let in, knowing she would always answer, knowing she would treat him with the same exasperated kindness no matter what he looked like.

Link still lacks the words to fix what broke that day in the desert, but he wasn’t alone when the Mirror of Twilight shattered, nor in the deafening silence that followed. Zelda came all this way. He owes it to her to try.

“I’m sorry,” he says softly, grateful that darkness cloaks them. “It wasn’t you. It was everything except for you. Still…there’s no excuse. I’m sorry.”

Wind sighs through the forest, and Zelda sighs with it. “Think nothing of it.”

His spine stiffens with incredulity. “I walked away from you.”

“I remember.”

“I kissed you and I saw your scars and I walked away, Zelda.” Now he wishes the shadows weren’t hiding her expression, that he could understand her the way Midna did. “It—it wasn’t nothing.”

“But it was for the best, don’t you think?”

That stings more than it should. She’s entirely right. For a thousand different reasons, they never should have opened this door. Link is sickened by the idea of her marrying one of those noblemen circling the castle—it would be like chaining a golden eagle to a carrion crow—but that’s her choice to make, not his to jeopardize.

Besides, Midna took so much of him with her, and he barely knows what to do with all that remains.

With a sigh, Link pulls off his cloak to offer Zelda an extra layer of warmth. He’s met with silence and shadows too deep for his human eyes to pierce, but eventually she accepts it with a murmured, “Thank you.”

There’s a glimmer of gold as the Triforce lights her way to the bedroll. He touches the shadow crystal, gritting his teeth through the transformation—if only all pain passed so quickly—and turns a circle before settling down in front of her, making himself a shield against the wind and anything else that might risk entering his den. They lie there cradled in the quiet arms of the night, but it’s a long time before either of them falls asleep.

.

.

.

Link opens his eyes to a cloudy grey dawn and Zelda’s fingers tangled up in the thick fur between his shoulders. He holds himself very still, listening as the woods come awake around them, until she wakes too and twitches away from him.

Breakfast is a pumpkin roll split between them and goat cheese spread over his last apple. Link will have to hunt if they’re out here much longer, but for now, there’s more important game. He’s a wolf again when they set off, partly because it’s easier to find and follow the killer’s trail like this and partly because he has no idea what to say to Zelda.

He didn’t expect her to accept his apology so easily. He didn’t expect to spend another night in her company at all. It was always shadows that brought them together at the castle, long after everyone else was asleep. Link would stumble upon her in his wanderings, a thin wraith haunting the ruined castle with the same restlessness that infected him. The first few nights, they passed each other by with nothing more than a murmured greeting—but later, they fell into step together, climbing the ramparts to see the stars or walking the gardens in moonlit silence.

Only once did they come together like gravity, tentative in the first kiss but starving by the second; only once did they break apart in breathless terror. And once will have to be enough. He can’t allow that hunger to swallow them both whole.

The morning remains chilly and bleak, and their quarry’s twisting trail makes Faron seem twice as large as it actually is. A growl of annoyance builds at the back of Link’s throat when he realizes they’re going in circles. It’s one thing for his time to be wasted, but how much longer can he drag Zelda around? He watches her strong shoulders, the long waterfall of her hair, all the things he missed without realizing it, and he knows she can only resist the call of the castle for so long.

She stops in her tracks suddenly, and the glow emanating from her hand makes him halt as well. Link follows her gaze downhill to a stream that trickles through the forest.

There’s a shadow at the water’s edge. Only when it shifts does he understand that he’s looking at a boar, bristling with unnatural darkness and twice the size of those native to Faron. The saddle on its back marks it as a Bulblin’s mount, but Link always knew those creatures to be natural, if brutish. There’s nothing natural about this one. He can hear the slow drip of blood from the boar’s pelt and the snuffling irregularity of its breath as it guzzles from the stream.

Zelda grasps at the fur between his shoulder blades with a trembling hand. “Twili magic. The beast is half-mad with it. I suspected as much when we found the hare yesterday, but…”

I know, Link wants to say. Sensing it from afar doesn’t prepare you for seeing it in the flesh.

Midna made sure their worlds would never intersect. The presence of her people’s magic here makes no sense, yet there’s no denying the taint that fills the air, a pulsing wrongness that forces him to remember vermin-infested waterways, towns full of guileless spirits, and a world with no sun or moon. Even the rising wind can’t sweep away the malaise.

“I can hit it from here,” Zelda whispers, nocking an arrow to her bowstring. “It’s likely to flee in the opposite direction. Perhaps we should split up to limit its chances of escape.”

Link nods, creeping downhill and downstream. The angle gives him a glimpse of the boar’s long tusks, blackened by the power that curses it and sharp enough to have killed all those poor animals. He’s glad Zelda is staying up there in the trees, kept safe by higher ground.

The wind picks up, hinting at rain—but more than that, he smells rot, and he smells the Twilight. A shiver rips through him from nose to tail, jangling the metal cuff he’s worn since the first day he woke up as a wolf.

The sound might as well be thunder. The boar raises its head and fixes him with a gaze that weeps blood.

Zelda’s first arrow strikes its shoulder. The creature wheels around with a spray of sand and an awful cry. Link takes off to give chase, but his quarry doesn’t flee as any self-preserving animal would, even when a second arrow pierces its night-black pelt. The boar’s massive head swings towards the slope, powerful muscles bunching beneath its thick hide, and Link thinks, No.

The boar charges uphill at a pace he can barely comprehend, crushing everything in its path. A third arrow flies through the trees, missing by a hair. Link’s paws devour the distance, but he knows it won’t be enough. Not her. Not this. Not again.

Gold light blossoms through the foliage, a shudder of power greater than anything he’s felt in a long time. There’s another frightened squeal, and then the trees part to reveal the boar trapped in a column of light, Zelda’s arms shaking with the effort to hold it there.

Link closes the gap with a leap, his fangs finding the beast’s shoulder and his claws raking through whatever else he can reach. Hot blood drowns out the taste of decay and everything else—he hates this, he’s always hated this, even though a part of him digs in deeper and exults while the enemy screams. The boar bucks, making his vision tilt wildly; Link jerks his head back with a snarl and parts his jaws to go for the throat.

He catches a glimpse of Zelda, a flash of wild eyes and radiant light—blue and gold, the only colors in his world of greys—and in that moment of distraction, the boar thrashes against her hold. Tusks arc through the air and collide with the border of Zelda’s spell, shattering the power that once stood against Ganondorf.

There’s a cry that breaks his heart. Link launches himself at the boar’s face, raking his front claws over its eyes. The creature buckles beneath him, hooves slipping on the leaf-littered ground, and the world somersaults as they tumble down the slope together.

Link springs free before he’s crushed. The boar struggles upright with a pitiful wheeze and staggers away from him, finally remembering its survival instincts. He pays it no mind; he’s already scrambling uphill.

Zelda is a shivering huddle on the ground. There’s blood everywhere, on her and on him, and rain has begun to fall. A memory clamors for attention, dark fields and flooded tunnels and Midna dying on his back, but Link shoves it away and wrenches himself back to humanity faster than ever.

“We have to stop that thing,” Zelda gasps. “We—”

He tips her chin up—no blood—and runs his hands down her shoulders before pausing at her elbows. The boar’s tusks tore open those lovely white gloves and the flesh beneath.

Link fumbles through the pouches at his waist until he finds gauze to press down on each of her forearms, holding it there even when Zelda gasps and clutches him with shaky fingers.

“It’s getting away,” she insists.

He spares one glance for the boar, limping away in the opposite direction. “I don’t care.”

“Link, there’s something—”

“Zelda.” Cold raindrops slide down his neck and trail clean paths through the heat of her blood. He can’t loosen his grip, so he presses his forehead to hers and says firmly, “I’m not leaving you.”

She shudders against him. Maybe it’s pain. Maybe it’s disbelief; he’s left her before. But instead of pulling away, Zelda closes her eyes and breathes him in. This close, Link can see the edge of a scar peeking out from beneath her collar.

This close, he can’t help but remember what it felt like to kiss her.

He’d linger in this moment for much longer if his throat wasn’t burning with the scent of her blood. They backtrack up the slope to a cave that caught his eye earlier, not much more than a hollow space formed by the roots of a great tree as it cracks through the rocky outcropping beneath it. They have to hunch and keep bumping into each other on their way inside, but at least they’ll be out of the rain.

He gives her a red potion, then sits across from her to peel off the ruined mess of her gloves. She’s biting her lip, shoulders bunched up as she resists the instinct to pull away from the pain. A hiss escapes through her teeth when Link rinses the wounds off with his waterskin.

“Your left arm’s not too bad,” he says, bandaging it swiftly. “But you’ll need a couple stitches on the right. Don’t worry; I’ve done this plenty of times.”

“I’m not worried.”

You should be, he wants to reply, because right under his fingers is the network of scars that climbs up her wrists to disappear beneath her sleeves, a jagged reflection of the lightning Link redirected at her in the throne room. It’s everything he’s been running from—the memory of her corrupted amber gaze, the blood of countless other creatures under his fingernails, the reason he can’t bear to stay in Ordon for more than a few days at a time.

But he can’t flee again, because she needs him. That fact keeps his hands steady enough to thread the needle and bring her arm over to rest on his thigh. “Ever had this done before?” he asks.

“No.”

“Hurts like hell, but I’ll make it fast, okay?”

“I will be fine,” Zelda replies evenly, because of course she will; she had no choice but to hold her head high through the collapse of her kingdom and everything else Ganondorf did to her. Link grits his teeth and tries to seem half so composed as he starts the stitches, tries not to listen to her shaky breathing.

“She was awful with blood,” he finds himself saying. “I learned early on not to expect her help. Towards the end, though…she wouldn’t stitch me up, but she would talk to me. Make herself a distraction.” An unwilling smile tugs at his lips. “She was a good distraction.”

Zelda gasps out a laugh that makes him suddenly aware of how close they’re sitting, his knee pressed against her calf. “What did she speak of?”

“Simple stuff, mostly. What she thought about whatever corner of Hyrule we were in. How different it was from her realm. What she wanted to eat that day. Food was the only thing she really liked about our world.”

“Not the only thing, Link.”

Her voice is tight with pain, both from the needle and, he suspects, from a hurt that runs much deeper. At the castle, they tiptoed around the broken glass Midna left behind as if silence would bring her back. Link is surprised to find that he can have this conversation without wanting to scream—surprised to find that it’s a relief to remember her with the one person who will understand. Yet another strange but immutable burden he and Zelda have in common.

“She did talk about you, sometimes,” he adds. “After what you did for her…we thought you were gone, at first. But from the second she realized you were alive, she never gave up on bringing you back.”

“She never gave up on anything,” Zelda agrees wistfully.

“Were you…what do you remember from back then?”

She tips her head back to watch water drip through the cracks in their shelter. “Only the vaguest things. Saving her. Being her. Being with you. I was not fully aware of myself until the throne room.”

He shouldn’t have asked. Grateful for the excuse to keep his head down, Link ties off the last stitch and trims the excess thread, then dampens a cloth to wipe away the remaining blood.

“Thank you,” Zelda says, searching his face. “Was there something else you wanted to ask me?”

Lightning crackling through the air, her face twisted into a sick grin, the sword wavering in her grip during the brief lapses in Ganondorf’s control—Link will remember it as long as he lives. But does Zelda? There’s something in her expression, the same weary grief she wore the day they met, that makes him think she does.

But the question burns like ashes on his tongue. He can’t confront what the enemy did to her, what he did to her, and still meet her eyes afterwards. So instead he asks, “What was that thing? A miniature Ganon?”

She chuckles dryly. “No. The boar was tainted by a piece of the Fused Shadows.”

“What?” Link shoots up so suddenly that his head smacks the nearest tree root. “Ow! I mean—how?”

“I wish I knew. Midna and I sought out the fragments in Hyrule Field and disposed of them while you were sleeping off your injuries. But if I had to guess…even the smallest shard, one easily overlooked, would be capable of corrupting most living creatures. Especially one that already served the enemy.”

He sighs, tucking his hands under his knees for warmth. That boar isn’t evil, any more than Epona is. But he remembers the beast’s rotting stench and bleeding pelt and knows that it’s been suffering since it came into contact with the Fused Shadows. That’s reason enough to finish the job.

“Okay,” Link decides wearily. “It won’t get far with those injuries. Why don’t you rest a while? I’ll wake you up when it stops raining.”

Zelda purses her lips, but the exhausting effects of blood loss negate whatever objection she wants to voice. She curls up under both their cloaks and lays her head on his legs. He doesn’t remember moving, but his fingers are carding through her long hair, a touch as instinctive as that first kiss in the hallway. Even though all the reasons he left the castle are still wedged between them, everything seems so terribly simple out here in the wild—no thrones, no broken mirrors, no scavenging noblemen.

Maybe she feels the same way, for her eyes drift shut without a word of protest.

Link leans back and listens to the rainfall. Hopefully Fado brought the goats inside before it started; being wet and cold makes them twice as ornery. Everyone else will be welcoming the excuse to take a break from the endless harvest work. This time last year, Ilia would have knocked on Link’s door with a book and a blushing smile, and they would have sat by the fire in comfortable silence, stealing a few rare hours away from prying eyes.

He looks down at Zelda—dark eyelashes fluttering against pale cheeks, hands tucked under her chin so that he can see the new stitches layered over the old scars. He wonders if she, too, yearns for things long gone. If she feels like she’s walking through the ruins of a life she no longer recognizes.

And she’s tethered to that life. Link, at least, has the luxury of freedom.

Yet the boar’s blood still burns at the back of his throat. The Twilight followed him all the way home.

It’s time to stop running from it.

Link pulls off his thick overtunic of Ordonian wool and balls it up, sliding it under Zelda’s head. In only his chainmail and undershirt, the damp air has a bite to it, but when he squeezes out through the tree root and pads away on four legs, he no longer feels the cold.

In a few minutes, he’s down the slope and back to the pebbled stream where they encountered the boar. The rain has washed away most of the blood but given him fresh mud that captures the boar’s hoofprints, to say nothing of that unmistakable stench. Worse than the castle sewers or reekfish; if anything, it brings back the parched decay of Arbiter’s Grounds.

He finds the boar lying at the base of an elm, its sides shuddering with unsteady gasps, its dark pelt soaked through with rain and worse. Death drips from the two arrows buried in the boar’s flesh and the gouges made by Link’s fangs and claws. Movement brings his eyes up to the branches overhead, where half a dozen crows are silhouetted against the grey sky, waiting for nature to provide them a feast of flesh.

The boar must smell him too, but it makes no effort to rise as he creeps to its side. If it was ever capable of speech like most animals he’s met, it’s mute now. His earlier attack may have blinded the poor thing, but even so, there’s a look in its eyes that Link has seen so many times. Not fear. Not acceptance. Just exhausted resignation. Even Ganondorf looked that way at the end.

Trying to run was foolish. He will never forget how it feels to deal out death. He can only bare his fangs and end it as quickly as he can.

As the boar breathes its last, Link knows he can’t leave it to the crows. Not just because whatever remains of the Fused Shadows could latch onto them too, but because this never should have happened in the first place. Because he knows how it feels to be twisted beyond recognition by forces so much bigger than him.

He's digging between the tree roots when the sound of Zelda’s footsteps reaches him. Even when they come to a halt in front of the grave, he doesn’t look up until she says, “Link.”

There’s an edge to her voice he’s reluctant to face, but she just stares at him and drums her fingers against the bow in her hands until he jumps out of the hole, spraying her with mud in the process.

“You said you wouldn’t leave.”

Link dips his head towards the boar’s corpse.

“Yes, I know it had to die. That does not mean—” She stops abruptly, her face bloodless beneath the hood of her cloak, and heaves out a great sigh.

He’s never seen what anger looks like on her face before today. Watching her piece together what remained of the castle and its cowardly soldiers with nothing but serene patience fascinated him, especially after months with Midna, who was so full of fury that Link practically became immune to it. Zelda’s ire feels different, though, because he’s certain he deserves it.

So he shifts, feeling mud soak into his trousers before he pushes himself up to face her. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I was coming back, I swear.”

“That is not the point. It was one thing when you were wandering all over Hyrule, helping strangers, but here…do you realize what you have in Ordon? An entire village of people who would do anythingfor you, because you’ve done everything for them. Yet you spent days out here in the cold instead of asking for their help.” She tightens her grip on the bow. “For mine. A wolf needs a pack, Link.”

“I told you before, I don’t want anyone else getting hurt. This…” He gestures vaguely at the dead boar. “This is my…”

“You already did what fate asked of you.”

“And now you’re telling me to just walk away?”

“I’m not telling you to do anything. But tell me this is the life you want and I’ll call you a liar.”

“I don’t—I’m not suited for herding goats anymore.” Link brushes rainwater from his brow so he has an excuse to look away and adds all in a rush, “I would keep your hands clean, Zelda.”

She laughs, knife-sharp and far more bitter than anything he’s ever heard from her. “It’s years too late for that.”

He finds himself wondering how the old queen and king died, how long Zelda has been alone, and why he’s never asked her any of these questions before. She’s always seemed so distant, so perfectly indestructible—but she kissed him as desperately as he kissed her. How did he overlook that?

“What I meant was…it’s not like you can walk away,” Link says. “You have your role. And I have mine.”

She stares at him through the rain, shaking her head slowly. “This is exactly why Midna broke the Mirror.”

He flinches back a step. “What does thatmean?”

“She wanted you to be free, Link. She spent months in your shadow, watching you carry all these things that—”

“That I was meant to carry.”

“Does that make them any easier to bear?” Zelda counters, locking him in place with those relentless blue eyes. “When I said it was for the best that you left the castle, this is what I meant. Midna was right, and I owe you everything, and I will not be another thing that weighs you down.”

“What is it you think you owe me? If you mean Hyrule, that was Midna as much as me, and you’ve been taking care of it much longer.”

“Of course I mean Hyrule. But not only that.” She pulls up her sleeve, unveiling the red scars that branch out along her veins. “You saved me.”

Link’s heart sinks like a stone into bottomless depths. His gaze falls on the boar’s carcass, dripping blood and water into its bed of leaves. The crows are still waiting in the branches overhead. He digs his nails into his palms and chokes out, “I hurt you, Zelda. Don’t—don’t pretend otherwise. I heard you scream.”

For a long time, the only sound between them is the rain pattering down over the forest. She comes forward slowly, her eyes never leaving his face. “You heard Ganondorf scream. Every part of me that matters was with Midna. I felt no pain.”

“Your body did.”

“Perhaps. But it was necessary.” Zelda inclines her head towards the boar. “It’s always been necessary. It doesn’t make you what you think you are.”

Link shudders out a breath. She reaches for his hand and turns it over to inspect his palm, callused from a lifetime of ranch work and covered in plenty of his own scars. Only an hour ago, he was stitching her skin back together. They’ve ridden to war, loved and lost the same woman, tasted each other’s lips and gotten halfway to doing much more than that. But somehow, the gentleness of this touch is what unravels him.

Zelda has been nothing but honest with him since the day they met. It was one of the first things he appreciated about her—that in a world turned unrecognizable, there was at least one person willing to tell her the truth. Link has no reason to start doubting her now.

He runs his fingers over the scars that climb up the inside of her wrist, careful of her new wounds. That day in the throne room, her skin was marble and her eyes amber. He can feel the heat of her breath now, see the blue of her gaze, feel the thrum of her pulse, all of it a reminder that they made it through alive.

“Okay,” he breathes. “Okay. Thank you.”

Zelda allows herself a small smile. “Of course.”

“I want you to know something, though. You’ll never weigh me down. And I’m still not leaving you, not for good.”

“Link…”

“A wolf needs a pack, Zelda.”

She holds his gaze for a long time, as if waiting for him to change his mind. When he doesn’t, she brings a hand to his cheek, touching him the same way Midna touched them both: with a tenderness that almost defies belief. One by one, the crows fly away, and Zelda closes her eyes and kisses the rain from Link’s skin.

.

.

.

After the boar lies buried beneath the elm’s roots, they make their way home—because whatever else changes, Ordon will always be home. They’re greeted by fussing from Uli, questions from Rusl, and food piled high on their plates. Zelda sneaks that subtle smile across the table at Link while he explains that Faron is safe and apologizes for making them worry.

When they finally extricate themselves, the rain has given way to bold rays of late-afternoon sun that filter through the trees. Their horses are grazing in the clearing by his treehouse, Epona’s chestnut coat a brilliant mirror of the autumn foliage beside the quiet grey of Zelda’s gelding.

“I’d best be on my way,” Zelda says reluctantly. “They could overthrow me any day, after all.”

Link laughs. “Wait…that was a joke, right?”

“Of course it was.” She lifts the saddle onto her horse’s back. “Midna’s influence, I suppose.”

He circles to the gelding’s other side to cinch the girth. He’s half-tempted to saddle Epona up too, but he’s not quite ready for that, and maybe Zelda isn’t either. He’s spent months searching for an end that will never come, running from the inevitable truth of who he’s become since the Twilight. The forest will regrow and die and regrow again, but it won’t be the same, and neither will he. He needs to come to terms with that. And to stop looking for Midna in every shadow.

“I’ll visit you soon,” he says, coming back around the horse. “I just need a little more time.”

Zelda smiles at him. “We have all the time in the world. She made sure of that.”

“She did.” Link draws her into an embrace, smelling the rain in her damp hair. “Take care of yourself, okay? Don’t keep patching everyone else up while you bleed.”

“Only if you promise to do the same,” she murmurs against his shoulder.

“I do.” He presses his lips to her temple and pulls back, memorizing her in the sunlight, tucking the sight away until the next time they see each other.

Zelda takes her horse’s reins, and instead of mounting, leads him past the treehouse on foot. Link follows her down the dirt path and past the Light Spirit’s glittering spring until they come to a halt at the bridge.

“Link, shift into a wolf,” she says, tethering her horse to one of the bridge posts.

“Huh? Why?”

“Trust me.”

And he does. Reaching for the shadow crystal, letting the pain pass over him—briefer every time, as much a part of him as the mark on his hand—and shakes his coat out, nudging her hand with his cold nose. The horse throws his head up in alarm at the sudden appearance of a predator, but Zelda pats his neck and kneels in front of Link.

She touches the iron cuff and severed chain that have been fastened to his leg since the day this all began. “Would you like this gone?”

Yes. Goddesses, yes. Link bobs his head, his tail wagging enthusiastically of its own accord.

“All right, then. Hold still.”

He sits back on his haunches and forces his ridiculous tail to stop moving. Zelda slides her fingers along the edge of the metal, and again comes that familiar golden glow, that call reaching out to the core of him.

With a rattling clankthat Link never wants to hear again, the cuff drops to the ground in two pieces leaving behind a pale band of fur that never grew properly beneath it. He picks up his paw, marveling at the weightlessness, and puts it down so he can nuzzle Zelda’s cheek, coaxing a laugh out of her.

He wonders if he should shift so that he can tell her thank you and I’m glad you came and I’ll see you later. But when Zelda kisses the soft fur between his ears before rising to her feet, he knows there’s no need.

She understands him in any form.

.

.

.

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 17: Collar, Touch aversion

I’m not late, I merely ran out of time to upload this last night. I finished it yesterday it’s all good. We’re good. Perfectly fine. (<- girl who hasn’t even started on today’s yet)

Anyway I thought too hard about my theory of Dink getting empowered from Twilight’s injury and uhhhh. Yeah. Here’s this. It’s on the heavier side again.

Read on ao3

Warnings: captivity, implied torture, blood and injury, and discussion of death

———————————————————

Eight heroes stood outside of a large, dark structure, surrounded by trees that blocked out the sunlight.

The limited light cast the area into what felt like perpetual twilight, grim and dark, and Time looked up at the ruins with a tight feeling in his gut.

“I’ll bet you anything our missing hero is in there,” Legend murmured, and Time nodded, trying not to fidget with discomfort.

Something cold and dark was in the very air around them, something that made Hyrule pale, and Sky hold a little more tightly to his sword. It was dark magic, Time knew, but that only helped solidify to him that something was very wrong here.

They’d landed in the unfamiliar Hyrule a few days ago, all surprised when nobody could identify it. It had been months since they’d last gained another hero, and Time had thought for sure that eight was as large as their group was going to get.

But as they’d traveled around and spoken to people, it became clear there was another hero they hadn’t yet seen.

One who’d apparently been missing for as long as they’d been traveling together.

They had begun to search for him, and followed a sparse trail of clues to a place off the map they’d been given, and as Tine looked up at the dark ruins, he felt a heavy sense of dread settle upon him.

Are you in there, Link?

“You really think he’s here?” Hyrule asked quietly, and Time nodded.

“I do. Making it this far was extremely difficult... I would be shocked if he weren’t.”

“But remember what Rusl said?” Wild spoke up quietly. “The Hero here has been missing for months. What are the odds that we’d find him in the space of barely a week? Just like that?”

“What are the odds that any of us would ever meet in the first place?” Four countered with, and before Warriors could say whatever it was he’d opened his mouth to voice, Four plowed on. “There must be a reason. Just like everything else.”

“And I can feel a pull,” Sky said in a quiet voice. “One I’ve only felt with all of you.”

“Enough chatter, let’s go already,” Wind said impatiently, and they went inside the falling-apart structure, steps echoing off dirty floors.

They paused at the first split path and argued for a moment about whether sticking together or splitting up was best, but before Warriors and Legend could start shouting and alert whatever was here to their presence, Time decided splitting in half was the best way to search quickly. There seemed to be two main sections of the ruins anyway, and the two reluctantly agreed.

“Stay on guard,” Warriors murmured before they split, and they all nodded. You don’t have to tell me twice.

Time ended up with Sky, Wild, and Four in his group, and they trooped quietly through the vine-filled hallways, and down stairwells full of cobwebs and dirt.

The feeling of unease grew more and more heavy the deeper they went, and Time caught Sky clenching at his sword more than once. It was oddly oppressive in here, despite the plants that crept through cracks, and spiders in the corners, like a shadow was cast all over the entire structure.

It just felt... wrong.

“Wait, shh,” Wild said suddenly as they entered a particularly long hallway.

Time stopped walking, and Wild crept forward, his ears pricked. He turned towards a small grate in the floor, and crouched beside it, his face creasing as he listened. Wild motioned them over after a moment, and they all kneeled beside the tiny grate, listening intently.

The faint sound of someone talking echoed up through the floor, and Time strained his ears, trying to make out the words. He couldn’t hear anything though, but with the way Wild’s face was paling, he was fairly certain he could.

“It’s the Shadow,” Wild said after a moment, voice grim as he pressed his ear to the grate. “Something about... power, I think? Power and... enemies. Wait—”

He went quiet again, and as the minutes dragged on, his eyes widened.

“Time... I think he’s talking to the hero.”

Wild suddenly jerked back from the grate, and they all heard the agonized scream that came from below, no less horrible because of how far away it was.

Sky paled, and Time scrambled to his feet, the others right beside him.

“Look for stairs,” Time said in a short voice, and they all ran down the hallway, searching for doors.

It took them a long time to find one that led downwards, and by the time they did, the screams had stopped, along with the talking. There was no sound at all, and Time hoped desperately they weren’t too late.

They cautiously stole down the flight of stairs, moving quickly, but wary of going too fast and alerting the enemy to their presence. They were a long, spiraling set, and some stairs had crumbled, leaving gaping holes they had to sidle around.

The time it took them to go down seemed much too long, and Time guessed they were deep underground now, having gone down several floors. It was almost completely silent, and the dread tightened in his chest.

Let us not be too late, please.

The stairs spat them into a pitch black hall, the sound of water dripping somewhere nearby. They listened for any movement, but none was heard, and Four cautiously pulled out a lantern.

An old dungeon met their eyes, light glinting off of metal bars, largely rusted and bent. Nobody spoke as they stepped quietly down the hallway, and the oppressive stench of dark magic was even heavier. Time spared a thought towards Hyrule as they walked, glad he had gone with the other group.

If I’m feeling this awful, I can only imagine how bad it would be for him.

They reached a partially collapsed wall then, making it difficult to squeeze by, but they all managed, though Time had to pop off a few pieces of armor. The cell at the end of the hallway was only a bit further along, but Time froze, holding a hand out to stop the others.

Eyes were glinting at them from behind the thick bars.

“Hello?” Sky asked in a cautious voice, and Time carefully approached the cell when they received no answer, squinting through the low light. He reached the bars and peered through, and felt equal relief and horror rise in his chest.

A thin man, boy really, barely into his twenties at Time’s guess, stared at them, his face pale with dark lines etched onto his forehead. It was difficult to tell with the limited light, but Time could make out chains around both his neck and wrists, and blood, both dried and not, all over him.

“...Link?” he breathed, but the boy only closed his eyes.

“Here,” Four said quietly, him and the others having come up to Time’s side. He knelt at the lock on the door, holding some small metal rods, and a few moments later, had the door swinging open.

Time quickly took a step inside, but the boy bared his teeth in a snarl as he moved, something fierce and desperate in his eyes.

Time quickly stilled.

“Link?” he asked again, and the boy merely turned away, as much as he could with the way he was chained up.

“...Tricks are getting old,” he rasped, the same twang they’d encountered in Ordon coming through. “Could at least try somethin’ new.”

Time glanced at the others, and Sky made a helpless gesture.

“I’m not sure what you mean, Link,” Time said carefully, and the chained hero coughed out a laugh.

“That’s what they said last time. Always fake,” he rasped, and glared at Time, half-dried blood shining in the lantern light. “Not tricking me again.”

“We’re not a trick, we’re real,” Wild said sharply, moving to stand next to Time.

“You’re gettin’ way less creative,” Link rasped, eyes staring them dully. “Points for new characters... but that’s it.”

“But we’re really real, we’re here to get you out!” Sky said in disbelief.

The new Link only closed his eyes again. “Sure.”

They all looked at each other again, Time feeling helpless. He didn’t want to approach Link before he knew they were truly here to help him, but he thought they were just a trick. How could they convinced the broken hero they weren’t here to hurt him?

How many times has he extended trust to someone, and had it all been fake to react like this?

“Link, we’re here to help you,” Time tried again, extending a hand towards him. Link only bared his teeth again, and Time could see the slightly longer canines this time.

“Get away Shade,” he snapped, and Time stopped as he let out a wracking cough. “I’m not falling for it. Not again.”

“Link, is there anything we can do to convince you we’re real?” Four spoke up, and the hero stared at him.

He didn’t say anything for a long time, and Time almost wondered if he was purposely ignoring them.

“Kill me.”

Four took a step back. “What?”

“Kill me,” Link repeated, a thread of desperation leaking in to his abused voice. “The Shadow won’t, if you do then... I’ll know you’re not him.”

“But then you’ll be dead!” Sky said in horror, and Link let out a croaking laugh, that finished with a sound like a sob.

“I’m already not living.”

Four didn’t say anything, and Link looked away, his eyes closed against the lantern light.

“Old man? What now?” Wild asked in an unusually subdued voice, and Time took a deep breath, trying to ignore the metallic smell of blood that permeated the cell.

What now indeed?

“We spoke with Rusl before coming here,” Time said quietly, and the boy’s ears twitched in his direction. “And Ilia, and the mayor, and a boy named Talo and all sorts of people. Your whole village misses you, Link, they’ve been looking nonstop. The Queen has sent out countless missions, and the Resistance is working tirelessly to figure out what happened to you.”

“How... do you know all that?” Link whispered.

“Because we’re real,” Wild said as he stepped forward. “We spoke to all those people, not more than a week ago.”

“We’re other heroes like you,” Four continued, and Sky took his glove off, showing Link the triangles marked into his hand. He stared in shock. “This isn’t even all of us. We’re fighting to stop the Shadow who imprisoned you, who’s been ripping holes through time and empowering the monsters. We’re on your side.”

“We’re here to get you out,” Time finished, voice firm.

Link looked around at them all, something almost like hope in his eyes, and he swallowed, looking directly at Time.

“Tell me what Talo said.”

His voice trembled when he spoke.

“He said that if we find you, we should tell you that he expects make up days for all the sword lessons he’s missed,” Time said, and Link breathed out, closing his eyes again.

“Yeah. That’s him,” he whispered.

A weak laugh came from his throat, and Time stepped forward again, Link not stopping him. His eyes stayed closed as Time kneeled next to him, but his ears twitched as he listened to his steps.

“We’re here to get you out,” Time said softly, and placed a hand on Link’s shoulder.

Link jerked at the touch, and Time immediately removed his hand, but then Link looked up at him with tears in his eyes.

“Sorry, s-sorry it’s... it’s been...” he choked out, and Time carefully put his hand back on his shoulder, Link stiffening at the touch, but not pulling away.

Time carefully rubbed it as the others drew near, and Link swallowed, trembling slightly as they crouched beside him.

“You’re really heroes?” he whispered, and Sky nodded, a grieved look on his face.

“Every one of us.”

Four leaned closer then and studied the collar around his neck with a frown, carefully lifting the chain and studying it.

“Where’s the lock on these?” he asked in confusion.

“It’s magic,” Link rasped, seeming twice as exhausted now that he’d been convinced of their intentions. “Won’t come off.”

Sky stepped forward, a firm look on his face as he kneeled beside Link with the Master Sword in his hands.

“May I?” he asked, and Link’s eyes widened at the sword. He hesitated, then gave him a weak nod, and Sky moved into position.

Sky held the sword close to Link’s neck, Four carefully holding the chain steady, and he pulled, the Master Sword glowing and making the blood Link was coated in appear blue.

The collar suddenly lit up with runes, glowing an ugly red, and Link cried out, jerking like he’d been shocked.

“Hold him!” Sky shouted, and Time and Wild moved to hold Link’s head still while the Master Sword slowly cut through the chains. Link jerked at their touch, and let out a raspy scream as Sky cut halfway, blue sparks flying into the air.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Wild repeated as he held Link’s head, almost like he was trying to reassure himself, and Link wailed, his voice giving out partway through from the strain.

Time held him still, ignoring the blood and dirt he was doubtlessly getting all over him, and ran a hand through his hair when he let out yet another cry.

Hold on Link, you’re almost out.

The Master Sword let out a brighter glow, and the chain fell with a clank, Link falling limp and trembling in Time’s lap. The runes faded, and Sky quickly moved to his wrists and cut through those as well, though the thinner chains didn’t take nearly as long to fall to the ground.

“It’s done,” Sky panted finally, and Link let out a whimper.

“We should tell the others,” Four said quietly. “And hopefully get out of here before the Shadow comes back.”

Wild nodded and pulled out his slate, and Time and Sky began easing Link up, his face drawn with pain. Time tried not to nudge any of the vast amount of injuries covering him, but it was nearly impossible with how many there were.

Not to mention the countless scars visible through the blood, and the dark marks marring his forehead...

Time breathed out, and then picked him up, his gauntlets giving him enough strength to easily lift Link. Though, he wasn’t entirely convinced he needed them, seeing how thin Link looked.

How long has he been here?

“Let’s get you home,” Sky said quietly, and they left the cell, Wild talking quietly to Wind on his slate.

“Thank you,” Link croaked, in a voice so faint Time barely heard it. Time guided his head to his shoulder in response, feeling a sharp pang as Link flinched, and he sped his steps.

We’re getting you out, Link.

You’re safe now.

[catwrites9]

can you write a happy tara and reader fic where you show them getting together with a little angst and it’s hard because of what tara’s gone through and reader also has something they’re hiding for whatever (good reason) and then we see them get together and be happy in the end 🫶

The Lie I Never Told

Warnings it’s scream so blood and killing, gut like a fish, cussing, use of y/n and she/her pronouns, and I think that’s it.

W/N I know you said a good reason but I put a little twist on that, and I know you said happy for the end but if you want to skip the last few paragraphs, I kinda got a little carried away. Possible part 2?

Masterlist Pt2

—————————————————————————

You and Tara fell in love from the first sight across the campus, later finding out that you both had the same scendue. After one month you guys started dating, keeping it a secret from everyone even though you were in the same friend group you still decided it was the best. That was until ghostface came back, you got attacked by ghostface and while getting attacked that ghostface told Sam about you two.

“Hello Sam,” Ghostface said.

“What the hell do you want”

“You really should be nicer to me considering the fact I have someone you care about in front of me”

Same looks around to everyone in the living room” Clearly your lying because everyone’s with me”

“Oh I’m sorry Sam, I forgot that Tara kept her a secret” Everyone’s heads turned to Sam while Sam’s turned to Tara. Ghostface continued talking” Honestly if I was you I would listen to me or you’ll lose Tara considering the fact that I have her girlfriend in front of my begging for her life as she bleeds out from multiple stab wound, Gutted like a fish”

Those words rerunning through Tara’s head. “Would you like to hear Y/N cry for her life” Ghostface said, not waiting for a anser as they turn off voice isolation from the phone call mic. Hearing you as you choke on the blood feeling like it was filling your lungs.

“Where the hell are you-you mother fucker” Tara yelled while geting up.

“Her apartment, it’s quite funny how much she cares about you and how I’ll gut you like a fish just like her”

“Shut the fuck up” Tara yells while going twards the front door caring a pocket knife.

“Tara, what are you doing?” Sam asked while going in front of her.

“Yeah Tara, are you trying to be gut just like her,” Ghostface joined in.

Your able to get three words out, those words staying in her head forever “please help Tara”

“I’m going to save my girlfriend, move Sam.”

“How do you know this is not just a way to get you over there”

“Because I just know Sam”

“If you're going I’m going” Chad spoke up, he was who introduced you to Tara but never knew you were dating, even though his sister was skeptical from when she first saw you.

They all get up and follow Tara. By this time Sam hung up and lectured Tara about getting a girlfriend as they ran to your apartment.

Once they got to your apartment they heard banging happening, Tara tried opening the door with your spare key but remembered that your deadbolt doesn't work with that key.

Over the course of 8 ish minutes they stayed there as the heard banging and rusling insinuating a fight was happening. After it stopped they heard the door open but what they didn’t expect was you falling as you had multiple stab wounds and blood all over your body, you fell into Tara and Chads arms as Chad picked you up running to the closest hospital.

That attack happened a year ago, the date being the exact day you almost died just because you were dating Tara. Those moments she thought about it as they were the moments she blamed herself for getting the woman she loved hurt.

You didn’t remember the day you got attacked well you remember the attack but not the exact date like Tara did. You noticed Tara not being her normal happy self when she was on campus so you decided to check on her after class but you couldn’t find her even after joining the group for lunch. So you waited till after school and after Sam went to therapy to go to her apartment. You knocked and you waited for her to answer which didn’t happen. So you did it again, and again, and, and again till she answered the door. Tara’s eyes were puffy showing she was just crying.

“Tara” was all you were able to get out as you put your hand on her cheek, following her into the house as she closed the door. “What’s wrong? '' She didn’t answer you and just hugged you as she pushed you back to the couch so that she could sit next to you.

As she sat beside you she had her head down” I was just- I’m sorry for being the reason you got hurt”

“Oh Tara it wasn’t your fault that I got hurt it was Ethan’s and Quinn’s, and Bailey’s I forgot about him”

“No Y/n it’s my fault you got hurt if I wasn’t you girlfriend you wouldn’t have got you hurt”

“But you're my girlfriend and you can’t just take it back because I love you and I would have confessed anyways because of Chad presuring me.”

“Sometimes I wished I never made eye contact that day” Tara mumbled but loud enough for you to hear.

“Wha-“ You tried holding back your tears. “You don’t mean that Tara”

“I do because if it wasn’t for me you wouldn’t have almost died oh wait you did die for 5 minutes”

You let your tears fall but you knew you had to tell her.

“Tara, your not the reason I almost died it’s me”

“How”

“The Secret I Never Told, the one Ethan kept talking about during the whole killers reveal”

“What is it?” she questioned while now looking at you.

“I don’t want you to think of me differently but I’ve seen how you and Sam are and I fear that you’ll stop loving me”

“Just tell me Y/n, I won’t stop loving you”

“You know I’m the same age as you right”

“Yeah”

“My father was Stu Macher”

She stayed there shocked, you feared that she was gonna be mad at you for waiting so long to tell her.

“How is that possible”

“My father basicly stored his semen at a place that then later on was used for when my mom was ready to have kids after his death.

She thought for a moment,”You thought I wouldn’t love you just because of your dad”

“Yeah I mean I’ve seen you’re relationship with Sam and I heard about the moment at the hospital you both had”

She smiled as she grabbed your shoulders pulling you into a hug. “I’ll never stop loving you just because you father is Stu Macher”

“Her fathers who now” The worst moment to walk in on Sam's part.

“Sam,” Tara said.

“How is that possible, isn’t she as old as you?” Sam asked while leaning on the wall..

“Yes he just stored his semen so that later on my no could have kids with him”

That moment felt like an hour of her just going from staring at you to staring at Tara.

You broke the silence with “Which is why I told you me and you were similar Sam”

“Honestly you guys do whatever you want I'm too tired for this, but if you hurt her I’ll make you die a painful death” She said and then walked away to her room.

“Damn she really is tired if she only threatened me with dying a painful death.” You joked while putting your arm around her.

You both laughed and then you then watched a movie while waiting for pizza to get delivered and in the middle all of the movie having Chad, Mindy, and Anika come over. They all invited some new people you all met, Mattew, Anthony, Johnathan, and Liam. You were just happy she loved you for who you were. You walked to the bathroom looking into the mirror seeing him behind you.

“If you tell me to kill someone then I reserect you just to kill you again”

“You did good kiddo, I know I haven’t been the best dad but i want to be you dad, even if I’m a hallucination I won’t tell you to kill people….. as often, but you did good”

“Thank you it means a lot” you walked out sitting back down with Tara watching the random movie Mindy put on while she takes about every detail about the movie. You loved moments like this wishing you could live forever like this.

Tara’s phone starts ringing showing up with no caller id. Of course moments like this could never last forever.

You pick it up showing her, the room being quite, scarily quiet. But that still made you not hear Sam come up behind you as she sees what happened. Sam picked it up and answered it.

“Hello Sam,” Ghostface said.

She didn’t answer.

“Please pass the phone to y/n”

You grabbed it put it to your ear

“Hello y/n you didn’t tell her about your mom did you, the fact she was also ghostface, sad really but the even funnier thing is that I just recreated what the last ones did to you but this time with your adopted mom, Sidney Prescott, and now I’m about to go gut your brother so have Fun” Ghostface then hung up.

You immediately called your mom.

She answered “Hey Y/n what wrong”

“Mom where are you ghostface just called me saying they killed you”

“I’m in nyc I was going to surprise you but ghostface is back”

“Yes and they said there gonna get D”

“Fuck, I’m coming right now”

“No don’t it’s better if your somewhere safe, because if they are telling the truth then they’re is multiple and they’re gonna go after you and him”

“Or they were lying thinking that you would chose me over him and are going after him.”

“Or I lied about both and I’m going to kill you” you heard from the corridor of Sam and Tara’s rooms. Ghostface was there ready to strike at the slightest movement.

“Run” Mindy yells as ghostface started running at everyone.

[nancyheart11]

Dad in a dungeon pt1

They were following fast on the trail of a group of Yiga, almost where they could touch them, Abel was sure. If they could capture just one, then he felt sure they could finally get some straight answers about where to find Abel’s son, along with the others. They moved down on a slope lined with colored rocks and a dip in the middle of the path from the many feet that had trodden it in times past. The Yiga scum slipped in a small opening of great wooden doors that had seen much better days, but peeling paint and chipped carvings aside, the doors were magnificent in scale and in lovingly rendered carvings of something Abel didn’t pay attention to as the Fierce Deity nearly threw the doors off their hinges in his haste to enter the space.

They finally cornered the Yiga against a wall only to hear dreaded giggles of the sort that were part of Abel’s nightmares. He could have sworn he saw one of the blasted traitors wink at him through the mask before the air was filled with dark, sickly sweet smoke and mocking laughter. He felt air move on his back and Abel whirled around squinting through the thick smoke and try and get a hit on one of them.

The air finally cleared enough to see more than the sword in front of his body and Abel felt as though he had been doused in ice water as the great wooden doors slammed shut with finality. He had a feeling that there would be no getting out that way, even with the Fierce Deity’s absurd Strength. 

“Well that didn't work out.” Rusl said with a scowl on his face.

Fierce simply turned away from the door, sheathing his huge blade as he did so. He inhaled very loudly and held it for what would have been a concerningly long time for a mortal, then let it all out in one annoyed exhale through his nose making Abel’s heart jump even as he had kept an eye on the Deity.

“I sense a great darkness further in this building and it grows, even now… My little one would feel obligated to clear the place, to protect the land from whatever may emerge from the depths. I suggest we do the same in their places.” Abel could’ve sworn he saw the shadow of a smirk on the deity's face, but a blink later and it was as impassive as ever. “Besides, the items sealed in such places are often very helpful.”

Abel raised one exasperated eyebrow. They didn’t have time to clear some forgotten ruin of monsters! They already dealt with far too many just trying to get to the next town, the next clue to where Link (and the other Links) could be. He turned to Rusl for help and found him lighting a torch, already moving to follow the deity further into the foreboding dark. Abel felt a headache start behind his eyes as he went to follow, hating that Fierce was right and knowing that the kind of man he’d been before the calamity wouldn’t have thought twice about trying to help.

The group started down crisp sharp stairs which after a small time turned a perfect 90 degrees to the right. Then again and again and–

Abel was right back in front of the giant wooden doors. 

He groaned in frustration because he had heard tales of people getting lost in seemingly simple dungeons and dying. He didn't have time for that!

He finally took his hands from his face only to see Rusl standing uncomfortably close to the edge, stone held in hand. Before Abel could ask how it would help Rusl dropped the stone straight down.

Abel felt something hit his arm. He turned to the threat drawing his sword as he did so only to see–

The stone?

Rusl grinned at him and Fierce, then confidently walked off the side.

When no sounds of Rusl’s body hitting the stone far beneath them sounded Abel began frantically looking for his brave but far too reckless– 

A whistle broke his thoughts and pulled his attention to a wall on the side of the stairs beneath him, where Rusl stood casually, like he wasn’t defying the laws of physics and oh look Fierce was joining him.

Abel brought a hand to his nose and tried not to scream, no wonder dungeons were so deadly if this was the kind of thing required to even get to the next door. Abel let all the air inside him out in a huge, disapproving sigh before following his companions, since he wasn’t going to let common sense of all things get him killed.

—-

It quickly became apparent that nothing in this dungeon was as it seemed at first glance. Normal doors when approached turned out to simply be startlingly realistic paintings, the actual doors being cleverly hidden until you were at just the right angle or needing to do things like leap across a series of poles to reach the ledge containing them.

 Upon reaching the first such door, Abel leaned his head against the smooth wood to catch his breath and wait for his heartbeat to slow, after all Tilieth was the one with the paraglider and he did not want to end up as a hylian pancake on the floor. He looked back just in time to see Fierce take a couple steps back, run at the wall and scramble up it smoothly in his armor, grabbing the ledge in one hand and pulling himself up with ease. Abel swallowed the hot envy in his mouth and went to open the door–

Locked

Why was it locked? Fierce seemed unsurprised, as did Rusl from where he perched a pillar way, since there wasn’t room for all three of them in the doorway at once.

“The Key must be elsewhere” Fierce nodded as though this was expected

He simply lowered himself and dropped the remaining 15 feet with no problem. And Abel’s knees groaned at the thought of having to cross those stupid pillars even once more, much less twice more just to make it back to this door which was most certainly not the end of the dungeon from the few bits of conversation Rusl and Fierce had shared on the subject.

“Hey Fierce, could you catch me?”

“Of course, little Farmer. It would be more efficient than crossing the pillars in fact.”

So of course Rusl jumped down, Fierce jumped up and, . . . huh that actually looked way more comfortable than Abel had imagined.

Fierce turned in his direction and raised one perfectly sculpted brow in silent question. Abel was grateful he didn’t have to answer out loud as he closed his eyes and took one small step over the ledge. Despite the armor the deity wore, his arms were gentle and he cushioned Abel’s fall and within minutes he found himself set back on solid ground.

With that done Fierce turned and began walking a direction they hadn’t gone yet. They found some red bokoblins camped around a fire soon enough and Abel almost relished something simple to do. Once they were defeated the group moved on, coming to a strange smooth curved wall.

Rusl’s touch flickered and in the corner of his eye Abel spotted scratches. He approached and based on the regularity and uniformity he felt sure it was writing! 

Writing he couldn’t read.

“Can either of you read this? Since we all apparently have different writing maybe it’s one of ours?”

Abel couldn’t help the hopeful note that crept into the end of his voice. He may not be a soldier anymore, but he still craved the easily understood nature of it. Stand here, fight these monsters, try not to claw your eyes out over this paperwork. He was starting to be more impressed with the other son’s if they had had to deal with things like this on a regular basis.

The others shook their heads and Abel felt his heart sink a little, but then Fierce tilted his head, then walked up to the wall and raised his arms, the tops of which easily cleared the top of the wall. Rusl came over quickly and Fierce lifted him to the top of the wall, then turned to Abel, grabbing him in an embrace with hands that nearly wrapped around his entire torso and lifting him up to join Rusl on the top of the wall.

Abel looked around and from this angle was able to see that the wall was entirely flat, save for a few areas that bulged out. He looked to Rusl who grinned at them.

“Looks like we just avoided a whole puzzle with Fierce’s height. Guess they didn’t expect anyone eight feet tall to come here.”

Fierce jumped the wall and helped them down from the other side without a word. Abel was starting to feel as though he wasn’t pulling his own weight with this whole dungeon exploring thing. Rusl had figured out that the whole dungeon didn’t follow the rules of physics as he knew them, while Fierce had been making what were surely meant to be dangerous and difficult obstacles seem like child’s play. Before he could back down Abel mumbled out a thanks, and felt his heart sink a little bit at the way Fierce’s eyes widened minutely at the words.

Finally looking forward Abel wanted to throw his hands over his eyes at the sight, in front of them was a stairway stretching as far as the eyes could see in stark black and white, somehow seeming to go both up and down at the same time, almost looking at thought someone had taken a chessboard, broken it into the individual squares and then put back together in the most confusing manner possible.

They moved until they were almost to the staircase and objects dropped from the ceiling! One black, one white and one half and half. Abel ignored them and went to put a foot on the stairs? If that’s what they were, but felt as though he had been doused in ice when he foot went through the square. He pulled it out quickly as though it had been burned and fell from the sudden change in momentum.

Rusl looked at him, looked at the stones? Boulders? Things that were round and large enough Abel would have to use 2 hands to hold them properly. Then his eyes lit up, he grabbed the white one, and stepped confidently onto the white square next to Abel. When he didn’t fall through Abel realized that colors weren’t just there to mock his eyes, but to make even moving on this strange staircase a puzzle of it’s own. He picked up the black stone and felt it’s weight, heavy, but not so much that he would tire quickly. Fierce of course picked up the swirled stone in one hand while holding his sword in the other and they all began to move on their designated squares. Rusl’s took him up, Abel’s took him down, and Fierce’s went sideways . . . for some reason.

Abel felt nervous separating from the others for any reason inside something as dangerous as a dungeon. Abel got to the bottom of the long walk and saw white on his left, so he held his head high and walked straight through what looked solid to find himself in a room with water running down open archways on all sides, with bright starlike lights wavering in the water with beautiful cerulean fishlike creatures swirling and occasionally blocking out the light. 

On the ledge of the archway he was standing on without falling in the four corners were four statues, one a bird with open wings, one a Lizard sunning itself on a rock, one a horse like creature with lumps on its back, and the last statue was so intimately familiar Abel’s heart hurt looking at it, for it looked Miphas divine beast, which he believed the girl had once said was based off something called an elephant.

He walked around the room trying to take in every detail and figure out what the trick was, trying not to think about how he was able to feel the cool trickling water under his boots and what appeared to be open space should he fall through.

His neck hurt from looking down so much, and Abel stretched it back as far as he could comfortably go, relishing in the relief it brought him before opening his eyes and immediately feeling stupid.

There was a bright shiny chest on the ‘ceiling’ in plain sight, and it probably held something that he very much needed to get out of here. Abel walked over to one corner made of good solid stone and put his foot on the wall wanting to see if he could walk up the side. He lifted his other foot–

And his back hit the ground, a long low groan being drawn out of him at the pain. He was never a thinker, it had never been his strong suit, but he was going to have to figure it out if he wanted to get his son and wife back, or ever leave the dungeon for that matter. Rubbing his likely bruised backside he got up and shook out his arms, now that they weren’t holding the weight of the stone–

Wait, where had it gone?

He looked and saw it had rolled just out of reach on the water he’d been standing on moments before. Moving a boot off the stone and into the water it went through, and Abel breathed out an annoyed sigh.

 Great, now he was confined to the stone ledge on the edges of the room since he didn’t want to find out just how endless the space below was and he didn’t have a way to reach the stone yet. He got up and seeing as his hand was able to pass through the water of the arch he was next to very easily, Abel decided to lean on the stone and stick his head out, to see just how distorted the space beyond had been by the water.

They outside looked like piles and piles of velvet layered on something, soft and luxurious almost calling to be touched, though he knew that it was too far away if it was even something that could be touched. Studded along the background where dots of pure white light, shaped like tears individually with what Abel had first thought to be fish now appearing to be whale’s in a deep blue at their center, lightning as they went out and delicate porcelain white patterns scattered along their surface as they swam peacefully in the area. The one he was watching moved  enough to unobscure the area and Abel sucked in a breath.

He knew that symbol in the not sky, everyone did, it was the one that had been stitched into the champion blue cloth for Revali. Abel quickly pulled his head back through the water headless of how much splashed everywhere. And he looked–

There

In the farther left corner from where he currently stood was the bird statue. Abel looked out the arch to his right and squinted, seeing the lizard of Daruk studded in the sky. He moved to the nearest statue, which was the lizard curled on the rock and started pushing with his whole body, gritting his teeth against the awful grinding noise made by the statue's movement. After continuing for some time and turning the corner he felt the statue click into place, and for a moment he wanted to jump in the air! He’d figured out some strange part of this all on his own, but then he remembered the other three statues and winced.

He cracked his knuckles and got to work. Eventually when the last statue (Mipha’s) was pushed into place after the light click there was a loud thonck as the Chest fell to the ‘floor’. Abel sighed wondering just how he was going to get out there before realizing that now the archways appear to have been filled in with translucent glass, no longer having water run in the space. He almost lamented the beauty lost before testing the sturdiness and went to open the Chest. Inside was a silver key along with a purple rupee and he was glad to see that because now that he was visiting towns more often money was something he had more need of.

Abel stuffed the key in his pocket, grabbed the stone, and found the area of the wall not as solid as it appeared to go back and hopefully meet with his companions. When he got back to the place the stones had first dropped he blinked at the pedestals that were definitely not there before they appeared as though they had simply grown out of the stone Abel stood on, with no joints or lines to separate them at all. As he watched a third pedestal bloomed in front of him to make three, and Abel got a feeling that the stones they had just used were meant to be returned here.

Rusl called out to him and Abel turned to greet him, only to begin laughing when he saw that Rusl’s clothes and hair were covered in splashes of various colors, all bright, none matching, and with his headband hanging askew on his head, nearly covering one eye. Coming from the opposite direction of where he had disappeared earlier was Fierce whose boots were once more bloodstained, though it was such a usual sight it took Abel a minute to realize most was fresh. 

They showed the things they had gathered in their individual rooms. Rusl had gotten quite a few rupees, Abel had his key and Fierce had both a key and compass for the dungeon. They put their stones into the pillars and watched as they receded smoothly into the floor. Behind them the strange stairway was disappearing, step by step, until a rather small door was left revealed. 

Abel frowned at it. So far everything in the dungeon had been spacious, to the point Fierce didn't have to duck his head to enter doorways, but this door was so short that even Abel, shortest of the group, would need to crouch to enter.. He grimaced at how much his back would hurt from just this room and moved forward. He went to put his key in the lock and Rusl put his hand on the door. Abel looked over and raised an eyebrow in question, far too tired for words already.

“We’ve been in here a while now, I think before we head in there some food might be a good idea.”

Abel wanted to get this over with and leave, but he saw the sense in Rusl’s suggestion and was also the only one of the group who could cook anything decent. Fierce made sense but how Rusl managed to char a sandwich? Abel didn’t want to know.

They sat on the smooth cold floor and Abel took some of the leftover rice from the night before and began shaping it adding salt, pepper and some hyrule herb as he went to make rice balls. He made sure to make ones too large for one hand so that Fierce would have an easier time holding them. He grumbled about others who were no good at cooking for themselves while Rusl sliced a few apples but felt his chest warm when both Rusl and Fierce hummed appreciatively at the rice balls along with the apple slices.

When that was finished Abel took several long drinks from his skin, swishing the water around inside to dislodge any random food bits and trying to decide how much to ration should they be stuck in this dungeon for days.

Then he got up, popped his knuckles and marched forward. Immediately upon entering the small room he saw a river rushing along inside a built stone bed, with pillars holding up the impossibly zig zagging structure. Abel mourned his briefly dry self before stepping into the cool water, since the ledges on the edge of the bed were quite thin and he didn’t want to test his balance. Then he realized the bed sloped downward, like an artificial hill in all the zigging and zagging, yet the water ran up? He turned to investigate and followed the flow of the water, feeling like that was the closest thing to a clue he’d encountered thus far.

Eventually he got to the top where the water arched beautifully off the stone as it was released to a water wheel? A water wheel that somehow held the water as it went upside down and deposited the water back at the bottom to move up again.

Looking closer at the water wheel Abel could see that it was guarded by a group of fish with extremely sharp teeth and that something was glinting at him from in between slats in the wheel.

It was times like these that Abel really missed the infinite bomb capacity of the sheikah slate. Instead he looked inside his bag, rooting through to see what useful items he–

Aha! He pulled out a spear triumphantly, then thought better of it and pulled out some rope as well.

After securing the spear with rope he threw it towards the bottom, it did not reach. So Abel trudged down a few levels ignoring how his head hurt when he looked too closely at the nonsensical architecture. He threw his spear once more and hit a couple of the fish head on, confirming they were monsters with puffs of smoke they emitted upon death.

With that out of the way it was simply a matter of getting more accurate in his throws the less fish there were to hit. When the area was cleared the water changed direction and Abel was swept off his feet unprepared for the change as he slid down the slope.

His arm jolted uncomfortably in its socket as the spear clenched in his hands caught on what felt like every corner and his legs hit walls before he could turn. Eventually he was deposited into a body of water, and once he gets his head above water he sees the water wheel.

Alright then.

He swims over to it and sees that there is now a solid stone platform he can climb on next to it. It puts him at just the right height to grab the strange object in the middle. There was a delicate sphere that looked like it was made from metal Spidersilk surrounding a triangle that didn't make sense. The triangle was made of a thin square piece of metal twisted upon itself in a way that just didn't work, yet here it was in front of Abel.

He twisted the sphere to get a better look at the triangle, where the blue side had been down, and once the red side was down there was the door in front of him.

Abel blinked and looked behind him,the room he'd just been in still there, but now he didn't have to go all the way back up the stone banks, so he shrugged and moved on.

He exited back to the now smooth room. Rusl was busy organizing arrows while Fierce watched on with interest. Rusl jumped a little when he noticed Abel. 

“That was quick, thought you’d be in there longer!”

Abel didn’t take offense to the statement, though he felt like he’d spent some time spearing the fish, guess he lost track of time doing so.

After Rusl had put all the good arrows back in his quiver they continued on, going back to the door by the pillars, though having Fierce lift them up and hand them the key being far easier of Abel’s joints than the alternative.

Rusl turned the key this time and they both pushed open the door, waiting inside for Fierce to lift himself and join them. Once he crossed the threshold the door slammed closed behind them and Iron bars slammed down over both the set behind them and the one in front, trapping them inside. 

Then the room rumbled and a paper crane fell on the floor? Abel furrowed his brow and went to pick it up, but at that moment a wave of paper cranes swooped down, seemingly of their own accord, all moving in one great rush to form some sort of giant creature. The thing roars at them and Abel can’t help wondering a little hysterically if this is one of the fabled dungeon monsters, something so dangerous it’s been confined to this place for who knows how long.

Abel readies his sword, feeling like the steel in his hand is woefully inadequate for the task before him, but prepared to fight with all his might–

Then Fierce almost lazily unsheathes his giant sword, slices it across the air nowhere near the monster shifting towards them, and Abel watches with something like disbelief as a beam of light is emitted, moving unerringly towards the monster and burning the cranes it comes into contact with. They were packed so closely together to make the creature that they are all ashes in moments.

Wait, something is still moving! Abel turns and almost feels pity at the sight of a lone crane, charred on one wing, pathetically shuffling along the floor trying to get away from them, Fierce walks over and sets one large boot on the thing, slowly grinding it underfoot with an expression of boredom, like this was beneath him. Abel feels ice in his veins at the reminder of the terrible power the deity wields so casually.

The bars slide up from where they came and a loud Click is heard as the doors unlock. Rusl runs up to Fierce and claps him on the back, grinning at him and Fierce seems happy? Pleased? Less bored at least with Rusl asking about the sword beam and thanking Fierce for taking care of the thing.

Abel shakes his head to try and clear it of such gloomy thoughts, sheathing his sword for the moment and following the others out of the doorway. They came out on what appeared to be giant hands, where they stepped out on the cupped palms of the hands, with the fingers coming up to act as a guard from falling. On the wall opposite them were notes? And under each note was an illustration of the hands with a finger raised, to make a total of 8 different images. But why!

Fierce made a little noise, one that sounded almost delighted? And pulled out a lump, with holes. He blew into the spout? And a note came out, smooth and windy sounding, though the grind of stone behind him quickly distracted Abel. The index finger on the right hand had lowered with the note, but when Fierce went to play a different one the first snapped back into place with a loud crack that made both Abel and Rusl jump. Fierce hummed and and played some more notes in varying orders, managing to find 2 that when played sequentially, kept both fingers down.

“This method is inefficient, there must be a clue elsewhere in this room that we can access to get the correct order of notes.” 

 Abel and Rusl both did their best to see what else may be in the room. It was Rusl who leaned around the hands and noticed the nails were painted in different shades. This made the fact that the illustrations on the other wall were colored more significant, though it didn’t help them know what order to play in. Abel, tired of staring down a seemingly endless abyss turned back to maybe see if they had missed something previously and noticed the door they came through was outlined in a rainbow of color. The rainbow was off, because it wasn’t in the right order! 

“Fierce! The colors around the door must be what order to play in!”

Fierce nodded, and immediately began playing from the innermost to outermost color. When he did, an object appeared in the middle of the room, another chest, joy.

Fierce then played from outer colors in, and once the simple melody was finished the hands now flat underneath them jolted, and began moving towards the far side. They stopped at the platform (held by nothing as far as Abel could tell) opened the chest and pulled out a map and compass? Fierce gasped and seemed happy to hold onto the items, Abel didn’t understand why you would need to solve a puzzle in the middle of a dungeon to get the map.

@skyloftian-nutcase here's the first part as promised! now to continue onward! hopefully soon i'll have this up so that the parts of Dad squad written to be post-dungeon can start going up as well!

[ask-the-nine-links]

This is another Anon, This is going to be a long one unfortunately, I'm really sorry.

I'm looking at all of your families and trying to figure them out, Four and Wild have blacksmiths for family, Four's Grandfather and Wild's Father.

Legend seems to be either a legitimate prince or a royal bastard (born out of wedlock).

Time's father was a Royal Knight though his mother might have just been a housewife.

Wind's parents were probably fisherfolk.

Sky's might have been Sky Knights or just one of the other jobs on Skyloft.

Hyrule, I'm not sure, maybe just regular civilians.

The final two, Warriors' father might have been a Knight as well or another blacksmith (as that seems to be a common trend) and his mother might be a weaver.

Twilight's on the other hand seem to be a complete unknown unless you count Rusl, who is basically his father, in which case he seems to be a former soldier, maybe even have had training as a Royal Knight despite being Ordonian.

I'm not sure if I got everything correct you may have to look up records in your own times or ask the nearest Zelda

Also Time, did you know Midna or am I just confusing Universes again as I remember seeing Midna hug your Shade's wolf form while crying and saying "You were alive this whole time, weren't you?"

And one last thing, I promise, Legend, I bought this jewellery box off of Ravio for 20 rupees a month ago, as it looked pretty and thought my mother might like it but I can't open it and why does it smell of darkness and dried blood? I think its trying to eat my hand.

Wild: I'm going to be one hundred percent honest, you probably know more about our families then we do.

Hyrule: Which is kinda sad, when you think about it.

Wild: Yeah, which is why we don't.

Time: As of right now, I don't know Midna outside of what Twi has told me, but maybe I'll meet her later on.

Legend: You were seriously dumb enough to buy something off of Ravio for that cheap?! If he's selling like a jewelry box for less than 100 rupees, then something is seriously wrong with it.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

DAD SQUAD DAD SQUAD

(for the prompt event)

Abel swore as he ran.

That soldier, that Hero, that idiot child had wandered off, distrusting as he was, or scared or petulant or arrogant, he didn’t even know - all he knew was the Fierce Deity’s other Hero had sauntered off and the Yiga had him.

But it had just happened. Abel was not letting them get away with this.

The Yiga were too far to reach quickly, but close enough to still be seen as they hauled their prize away. The blonde Hero of Hyrule, wrapped in his green and armor and blue scarf, was bleeding from the head, carried easily on the shoulders of one of the Yiga’s massive commanders.

Rusl was hot in his trail, already trying to prepare a weapon of his, but there was no way they were in range for anything. Abel tore across the open field as quickly as he could, adrenaline and rage bringing heat to his body, fueling his legs to move at breakneck speed.

As Abel ran, he caught sight of a traveler atop a horse, and an idea immediately came to his mind. Nocking an arrow, he let it loose, aiming low. When the arrow sank into the unsuspecting traveler’s leg, he let out a yell of pain, falling off his horse.

Abel immediately took advantage of the situation, making a beeline for the steed and leaping atop its saddle, ignoring the animals’ anxious protest, and directed it to run straight for his quarry.

“Abel, what the hell are you doing!” Rusl shouted from a short distance away.

“Get him a potion!” Abel ordered sharply, not wasting another moment, tearing after the Yiga.

Rusl stumbled, breathless, kneeling down beside the poor traveler and searching hastily through his bag. “I’m so sorry, he’s—my friend’s insane.”

As the Ordonian watched his Hylian companion make chase, he pulled out a little whistle, blowing into it while the traveler choked down the potion he’d offered. A hawk cried out in reply, swooping down to land on Rusl’s arm. With a brief, whispered command, the hawk took flight once more, soaring overhead and tearing after Abel.

The Yiga were growing ever closer as Abel urged the horse to move faster. As he rode, he heard a cry from overhead, glancing up to see a brown hawk, talons hovering a short distance above his head, gliding effortlessly before it flapped its wings to speed ahead. Abel’s eyes followed it until he saw that the Yiga were getting close to the wooded area at the edge of the clearing. If they got in there, he’d lose them.

He was close enough. This would do.

With a grunt, Abel moved one of his feet out of the stirrups, planting it on the saddle so he could rise above to get a better shot and more distance. He readied an ice arrow, gritting his teeth and glaring as he let it loose.

They were not getting away this time. He would make sure of it.

The arrow didn’t hit any particular target, but the magic that it spread from the impact managed to reach the majority of the Yiga, including the one carrying this newer Link. The hawk swooped down, pecking at the Yiga as Abel finally caught up to them, leaping off the horse with his sword at the ready. He sank the blade into an unsuspected enemy as he landed, digging his foot into the Yiga’s chest to pull the blade out and swinging it across another foe. He pulled out his shield just as another Yiga tired to fire some arrows at him, protecting him while the commander rose and readied his enormous blade.

Abel managed to move just in time as the Yiga commander’s blade crashed downward, sending a powerful strike his way. The hawk swooped down once more, distracting the archer behind Abel as he charged forward, sliding to one knee as he held his shield overhead, the impact from the massive blademaster’s attack making his shoulder scream in protest. He braced with his other arm, letting out a yell and pushing himself to stand, throwing the Yiga off balance.

It gave him just enough time, and he directed his sword diagonally upward, cutting across the man’s chest. When the Yiga fell to his knees, making him and Abel nearly at eye level, it gave the former knight all the time he needed to finish the job.

The Yiga archer yelled as the hawk pecked at him again, and then he realized the fight was over as his commander’s head rolled to his feet. He vanished in a puff of magic and light, and Abel stood over the bodies a moment, catching his breath.

Link watched him, eyes wide, leaning against a tree, his arm partly frozen from the blast of the arrow, hands bound, face gagged with a cloth.

“I told you,” Abel finally said as he approached him, pulling the gag off first. “Don’t wander off.”

Link seemed like he was trying to maintain some semblance of dignity, or he was just being defensive. He let out a breath through his nose in what was probably supposed to be a huff of defiance. “The last thing I remember was being attacked by people, and then I wake up weak and ill and you’re there talking about traitors to the crown trying to kidnap the Hero. You can’t possibly expect me to trust you instantly.”

“No,” Abel supposed mildly as he cut through the boy’s bonds. “But you currently can’t defend yourself, either. You should know better. Now on your feet, soldier, and this time, listen to orders.”

Link watched him a moment longer and then obeyed, seeming to give in, looking almost ashamed. When he stumbled a bit, Abel caught him easily, pulling him a little closer, finally letting some sympathy bleed through his exhaustion and worry. The boy couldn’t be much older than his own son, and he was going through a lot.

Sighing, Abel let him sink to the ground once more, sitting beside him and letting the boy lean against him. “Link… you have to trust me, okay? I feel it’s fairly obvious who the actual threat is now. I’ll keep you safe. I promise.”

As he spoke, his hands worked gently away at the ice melting off the boy’s arm. He felt a slight twinge of guilt that he’d hurt him a little, but if he hadn’t he would’ve lost him, which was far worse.

Link swallowed, saying nothing, but he relaxed a little in his hold. When Abel had picked off as much of the ice as he could, he tried to help the boy stand once more. Link was more stable on his feet, clearly trying hard to pull his own weight. Abel directed him towards the horse, helping him mount, and he took the reins away from the Hero so he could direct the mount from the ground.

The pair made their way back across the field, and Rusl finally caught up to them. “Are you two alright?”

“Link will need some looking after,” Abel noted. “I’m fine.”

Link ran a hand through his hair, the streak of white glistening in the sunlight, and then he sighed. “I take it those Yiga have been attacking you two?”

“They’ve been attacking Heroes,” Rusl answered as he walked alongside the horse. “We’ve been trying to get our sons back.”

Link blinked. “Your—you—”

Abel was somewhat exasperated that Rusl just admitted that, but he supposed there was little point in hiding it. It was a natural habit, though, so he didn’t comment, letting Rusl be he personable man that he was. It eased what little tension was left in the young soldier’s posture, and when they returned to camp, the boy was listening to the Ordonian tell stories about his boy. A realization of some sort was slowly dawning across the teenager’s face, though he kept whatever epiphany he had to himself.

He still didn’t entirely trust them, perhaps. Abel wasn’t too bothered by it. He knew the boy would at least listen to him now.

As the sun set, Abel cleaned the blood of his blade, satisfied that he’d managed to eliminate some Yiga and relieved that he’d at least fulfilled his duty in protecting one Hero. With another victory against the Yiga under his belt, he was almost starting to feel…

Well. He wouldn’t say it. He hadn’t been one to hold on to such sentiment since the Calamity.

But perhaps things were finally starting to look up for them. And… perhaps… his son…

Abel sighed, putting his sword down as Rusl and Link laughed over some story or another.

[violentvioleteye]

In an ideal world, what does Abyss and Shade’s life together look like? How does this change Abyss’s overall attitude on life?

Oh man.

In an ideal world, Shade is alive and whole. He never left Abyss and they live in Ordon together. Abyss helps out at the ranch and Shade helps Rusl keep Ordon safe. At the end of every week, they have dinner with Uli and Rusl, and when they go home they crawl into bed together and talk about nothing important as they hold each other. Then the next day one of them will make breakfast while the other takes care of Epona, and they'll eat together and kiss before they go to do their duties, and when the adventuring bug bites one (or both of them) they'll go out and travel to their heart's content and then return to Ordon to continue their life. It's just them. Colin doesn't exist, no child exists between them, because in an ideal world Abyss was born with the proper parts and so children aren't possible at all for them, for Abyss.

Listen, Abyss cares about Colin. He loves him, even though he struggles to face that. But Colin isn't JUST Shade's son, he isn't JUST a reminder of the last night they spent together before Shade left him, seemingly forever. Colin is a walking, talking reminder to Abyss that no matter how much he wishes, he was born wrong (in Abyss's opinion, of course).

If Abyss had that sort of life, he would be SO happy. We'd see that snarky attitude shine through, but it would be for teasing sarcasm and to give his husband grief because he thinks it's funny when he's annoyed. He would be more willing to accept the world and the people inside of it with open arms. He wouldn't avoid his reflection with everything he has, wouldn't ache at the sound of a wolf's howl, and wouldn't be trying to find a man he loved in every skeleton he finds in the forest. He would be living life looking forward to every day ahead of him, because he wouldn't be facing them alone.

Now, if this was all the same but he's still a transgender man, not cis, and he gets pregnant? First of all, that would be harder to happen. Abyss did NOT want children. That wasn't just because he was alone. Abyss has this line somewhere in the story where he said something along the lines of "I will never be a wife, I will never be a mother" and it's not JUST because of his gender identity, but also because of how he feels about the memory of his father. He never wanted that bastard to be right, and he never thought he'd be a good parent because of everything he went through.

BUT. Lets say he gets pregnant despite protection and care. I think Abyss would be older than he was in canon (he was twenty) which might help. But he would still struggle with being pregnant, what it's doing to his body and the labor he'll have to face (which I'll remind you is how his mother died) BUT he wouldn't be doing this alone. He wouldn't be so fresh off Shade's loss and pushing everyone away because Shade would be there, so he'd have him and Ordon to help. He'd still struggle to bond with Colin but he and Shade would be raising him together, so he'd probably get through that hurdle before Colin is sentient enough to remember that.

I think in the end, Colin and Shade would he closer for his whole life. BUT Abyss and Colin would be closer when he's older, where he won't feel like he'll fuck the kid up just by being near them.

I went off on a bit of a tangent so tdlr; an ideal life would Shade and Abyss living in Ordon with no children. But if Colin did still happen, it would go WAY better than it did in canon because he would be raising the little guy with Shade. Abyss would have a way more cheerful outlook on light, and the only time we'd see his snarky attitude is when he's giving his husband grief.

Thank you for the question! This was fun.

[obraveyouth]

want new-and-exciting plots for your character? long to reach out to more of your followers, but don’t know where to start? fear not! fill out this form and give your rp partners both present and future all the of juicy jumping off points they need to help you get your characters acquainted. [ template source , repost don't reblog ]

MUN NAME: rinni, as dotted with hearts. OOC CONTACT: tumblr im is open for everyone and my discord is open to mutuals

▍▍▍     WHO IS LINK ORDONA?

have you ever felt a sudden sadness emerge when the worlds of light and shadow converge. well , these words held such truth for link ordona , marked by farore and destined as a hero , lead a simple life: a ranch hand from the rural farming village of ordon famous for its productions of milk , cheeses , and pumpkins. he spent his days helping fado with herding goats , getting sword lessons from rusl , and providing aid in entertaining the village's next generation. that is , until life wasn't so simple. link's life is changed drastically when , preparing to go on a journey to deliver a blade to the royal family of hyrule , on behalf of ordon that grotesque monsters kidnap his friends and plunge the world into perpetual twilight. it is trying to begin their rescue that he is dragged into the twilight realm and destiny makes her call: for unlike others , within the twilight , link is transfigured into the form of a proud blue eyed beast. as a wolf , link allies with midna , the twilight princess , to obtain pieces of the forbidden fused shadow and restore the realms of light and darkness. through his journey link encounters various allies , including the hero shade ( a man that once bore the mark of farore and the spirit of the hero ): link learns of hyrule's tragic history --- from the banishment of those from the shadow tribe and the gerudo king that sought to plunge the land of the god's into ruin. from this combined might link defeats the false twilight king and ganondorf , undoing the curse put upon midna's form and bringing peace back to both realms once more. 

▍▍▍     KEEP IN MIND FOR INTERACTIONS:

O1. his canon point is ten years post-game ( making him twenty-seven ): link has been trying for a decade to regain connection to the twilight realm to see midna again. it has become an obsession to him and something he is always thinking about , even if not outwardly showing it. while he does carry around the master sword , link is always seen wearing the traditional clothing of ordon ( unless he has business in hyrule / castle town ): to pair with this , unless you are referred to him through a previous connection , he will not speak as to not ruin the image of the hero he bares. O2. my link has gerudo ancestry through his mother and speaks with a heavy southern drawl , all of my dialogue reflects this and sometimes he may work in a word of two of gerudo he learned from his mother , though it is very rare. O3. if your muse wants to be friends ... do not call him hero. do not put him on any kind of pedestal. link has a huge issue with people trying to paint him as something more grandiose than he sees himself to be and by people continuously doing so , it further divides him from the more common people ( except those of you ordon ): exceptions to this are children and animals --- both as a man or in the form of a wolf , link maintains an absolute adoration for animals -- domestic and wild alike. O4. he kept the shadow crystal and can transform into a wolf at anytime! along with this no matter the form , link can communicate with all animals and takes great pride in this fact! paired with this , some years ago link gained the ability to communicate with all the previous incarnations of the hero [see headcanon here]: so there are times when he will seek their guidance , think of how aang from atla communicates with his past lives.

▍▍▍     WHAT HAS HE BEEN UP TO RECENTLY:

default verse ( open ): it is a decade later and while hailed as a hero , link longs for the life he used to have and greatly misses midna , their only connection severed by her shattering of the mirror of twilight. he is tirelessly searching for a way to regain a way into the twilight realm. along with this , he has maintained his duties to the people of ordon and has even taken up gardening. link will attend political meetings , per the request of zelda , but will not speak during them and merely attends as a figurehead as the one who saved hyrule ( he does not care for all the formalities ): and has been known to journey to other kingdom's to provide aid and as an ambassador on behalf of hyrule. sacrilegious godslayer ( plotting preferred ): a link who grew tired of the cycle of incarnation and seeks to destroy it at its source of , what he believes , to be the gods he was preordained to serve [ heavy wip ]

▍▍▍     WHERE TO FIND THEM:

the vast majority of my interactions i imagine will take place in either ordon , hyrule , or something adjacent to the two. though , i have no preference if they meet while link is attending a political meeting in hyrule , while as an ambassador on behalf of hyrule for another kingdom , during the ingame quest , as a wolf , or even in a modern-ish setting. my default verse is perhaps the most versatile in terms of location but i am always down to discuss and bounce ideas off!

▍▍▍     DESIRED INTERACTIONS:

O1. a verse with the hero of time / the hero shade. i view link and shade as having a very loving bond beyond the simple mentor / student dynamic ( it is something a bit more paternal ): if this ain't your dice i understand , but i think the implications and ability to expand upon what was not seen in canon is exciting! O2. look my main verse heavily centers around midna and link missing her , now whether this is something romantic or purely friendship i leave up to the other mundane. while , i do ship midlink ... there are many nuances to their relationship that i want to explore outside of the purely romantic. i crave it honestly because midna is such a fascinating character to me. O3. the other minor cast of twilight or other character's games. i especially love the yiga , zora , other renditions of zelda , link , ganondorf... man honestly fuck me up. i am down for like anything toss me all the plot wolfies!

▍▍▍     ANYTHING ELSE TO KEEP IN MIND?

while extensive canon libraries have been taken with link as a character, primarily revolving around his racial/cultural background and personal feelings outside of his duty as a hero of the gods. he is older , taller , wiser , and fairly sacrilegious. but he is still the link we all know and love from twilight princess and all the more courageous and proud. but , regarding the canonical timeline of the legend of zelda , i am trying to adhere to it as to not uproot it as i am one of those people that is a stickler for canon... until i am not. because look, nintendo is doing fuck all with their timeline so i am mostly ignoring. ocarina of time predates twilight princess more than a couple hundred years though (that map layout is so wrong ): and i like to think that the events between oot and tp are a few thousand years or so apart. when it comes to the twilight princess manga it is not something i adhere too minus very choice things: i. the midlink kiss is so canon to me , ii. link is highly intelligent and an avid reader , iii. link struggling with the duty of being a hero , iv. he has a bit of a mischievous / prankster streak. also he is very funny , and v. his interactions with the hero shade. i have poured a lot of love into developing link over the years and continue to do so. i reference the game a lot. i tweak tidbits here and there to better form a narrative and overarching story and to drive character development above all. i am not really into extensive fight threads, especially not with link ( he has countless ability of past warriors and godslaying ability in his blood ): it wouldn't be fair and i wouldn't see a point personally. i am more aligned with extensive emotion driven interactions, and though i do not mind one off ask memes for those that are not as into plot heavy novella style threads.

[smilesrobotlover]

Whumptober day 10-Slurred words

I’m getting lazier and lazier with the art here 😭 but RUSL’S ALIVE dw

~~~~~~

It was quiet, save for muffled voices outside the window and the creaking of the floors near him. The bed he was in was soft, but there was no comfort due to every inch of his body aching terribly, making him involuntarily wince. His eyes opened, and he was staring at a dimly lit room, with a candle on a dresser next to him along with Ammon resting in a chair. He went to lift his head, but pain shot through his neck, and he quickly gave up, groaning in pain.

“Rusl!”

He looked over with his eyes to see Ammon standing over him, a soft smile on his face.

“W-Where ‘re we?” Rusl asked, his words slurring and his voice raspy. Ammon put his hand on his head, keeping him from moving.

“We’re in an inn. Don’t move, you’re still recovering.”

Rusl tried to look around, but his neck felt weak, and Ammon’s hand kept it from moving further. He closed his eyes, trying to remember what happened, which didn’t take long. The memory of him falling backwards off the cliff flowed through his mind. He somehow gained control before he hit the ground, and he was able to position himself so he’d land on his legs instead of his back. Though his legs hurt like the dickens from it. The other memories disturbed him more though; the memory of Kass falling after being hit, the memory of the dead wolves before his very eyes, the memory of swinging his sword and hitting his friend…

“Wh’re is ‘ver’one?” He struggled to ask, looking over at Ammon the best he could.

“Kass and Benji are out in the main room, while Talon went downstairs to get something to eat.” Ammon picked at his bottom lip, staring at the floor. “I… we don’t know where Linebeck and Leon are though. They didn’t come down with you and Kass.”

Rusl felt sick. They weren’t ok, he hurt them. He hit Linebeck and his sword hit Leon!

“We need to find them,” he started, attempting to get up, but the pain in his neck and ribs stopped him.

“Rusl! Stay down, ok?” Ammon scolded, holding him down. “You’re injured!”

“But we need to find them—“

“Rusl!” Ammon sighed and shook his head. “Please, you almost died, just rest and recover, alright?”

“Le’n and L’nebeck could be ‘n danger, I can’t jus’ sit here!”

“I know, but Talon has been neglecting himself to take care of you!”

Rusl stopped resisting and stared at Ammon. “What?”

“He’s been doing everything in his power to make sure that you recover. But he barely knows what he’s doing and he’s been overwhelmed. I don’t think he’s slept once these past couple of days looking after you and…” Ammon sighed again, letting go of Rusl. “Please. Just…. Rest. For his sake.”

Rusl frowned, feeling guilty suddenly. Talon was going through all that for him? Spirits, that man.

“Alright,” he sighed, attempting to get comfortable. It pained him, knowing that his own injury was somehow hurting the people that he cared about. Goddesses, it didn’t matter what he did, he was always hurting the people he loved.

Ammon patted his shoulder and gave him a small smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll be watching over you for now. Hopefully news of you being awake will help Talon feel better.”

“Th’nk you, ‘mmon,” he said with a smile. The man began to rummage through his pack, and he pulled out a bottle with a red liquid.

“You should drink this while you’re awake. It’ll speed up your recovery.”

Rusl smiled as if to nod, his neck hurting too much to move it, and Ammon pulled out a spoon to make taking the potion easier for him. It was humiliating being spoon fed when he could barely move, but Rusl quickly felt the pain alleviate in his body as he drank the potion. Soon, his neck felt good enough for him to be able to move it, and he was able to finish the potion.

“Great. You already had two thanks to Lonni, so hopefully recovery will be easy going from here on out,” Ammon commented, wiping down the spoon and bottle. Rusl let out a sigh, looking around him.

“You said we’re in an inn?” He asked, speaking feeling much easier for him now that he was healed up a bit.

“Yeah… Um… Lonni and Agus couldn’t let us stay any longer,” Ammon quickly said, looking around nervously. Rusl sighed, knowing the real reason. Whatever, he didn’t want to think about them anymore. At least he was finally in a bed again.

“Well, I appreciate y’all lookin’ out for me,” he mumbled, suddenly feeling tired. Ammon smiled and rested his hand on his shoulder.

“Of course, I know you’d do the same for us. Now get some rest, you’re going to be here for a while.”