#fics for Oma

[kikker-oma]

For you :)

Based on this piece of art:

Time woke up with a jolt, peaceful sleep warping into panic. He didn’t know why he sat up, kicking off the comfortable in blankets until he saw the red looming over the room and illuminating it. The rest of the room was dark. It had to be nighttime. He looked behind him and the moon was blood red, flakes of malice visible in the air outside. He could feel his heart pound wildly, and flashes of a moon crashing down into the earth, and being too late, and running loop after loop came to his mind. He turned back around, facing the door and the wall, seeing the shadow of the full shape of the moon and he ran out of the room, finding the bathroom because he knew it didn’t have any windows.

He closed the door and slid against it, forcing his suddenly heavy breathing to die down. The sound of a gurgling roar shook the earth and he flinched. Then he made a split decision and carefully went outside the bathroom, stepping into the bare hallway and opened the door. He inhaled the malice and coughed miserably before looking up. He couldn’t see where exactly that thundering roar had come from but he could soon see monsters returning to flesh with a magenta glow, cheering obnoxiously.

He could almost make out a grin on the moon and his blood turned to ice as he saw all the monsters appearing. He clutched his head, hoping this was all a nightmare but it wasn’t. Link wanted to run back inside more than anything, escape the moon and Termina and stop rewinding time over and over but he was frozen in the crimson glare of the large, looming object in the equally as red sky. A sob wracked his body. “Navi! Please! Come back!”

Help me, he wanted to scream at the blue fairy, as tears streamed down on his face in a seemingly relentless flow. But she wasn’t there. Neither was Tatl, who would’ve darted to his side in an instant in a worry that she would easily deflect. He buried his face in his knees, clutching them to his chest tightly, like if he’d let go he’d unravel into the ground. Flashes of a dying Zora, a dead Goron, a grief-filled Princess of the Deku Scrubs and many long dead souls rising up from the ground, as Stalfos. Flashes of a woman in denial, willing to face the end of the world if her love wouldn’t find her. Flashes of so many unaware people that would be crushed by the falling moon. His wailing echoed loud in the air.

“WATCH OUT!”

Link looked up to see Wild there, holding up a broadsword, and standing over him. His cape flew in the wind. Time realized belatedly it was no longer red out. The moon was back to normal. There were monsters snarling and sniveling in front of them…and yet Time couldn’t find the strength to get up and help. He was still shaking, and sobbing. The champion launched into battle and he yelled, “Get inside, it’s not safe out here.”

“I-I’m not leaving you,” The old man drew in a trembling deep breath and summoned the courage to stand.

Wild hesitated but gave him a nod and plunged his sword into a Lizalfos’ shoulder. Time grabbed his sword and hacked at their foes alongside the champion, and there was actually something relieving about the thrill of battle, not having to worry about any other thing than winning this small fight. When the monsters had all vanished in a puff of purple smoke, with wounds dripping black blood, all Time had was a nick on the face and all Wild had was a small bruise on his head. The old man sheathed his weapon and gave a sigh, feeling awfully tired. “I’m sorry. I should’ve been paying attention to my surroundings, and it could’ve cost my life. That’s not a burden you should’ve had to deal with. You should’ve been able to get your rest.”

“I can never sleep during blood moons,” Wild said simply. “During my journey if I let myself sleep, even up in the trees, monsters would return and find me…and they are pretty terrible. I don’t blame you, and you shouldn’t either.”

It was his fault but he couldn’t burden the champion even more. He gave a nod, slipping on a mask of stoicism, and he dipped his head. “Thank you. I’ll be upstairs, but please get something for that bruise.”

“Get something for that cut,” Wild returned, but was frowning deeply.

He left and absently bandaged his cheek where a small amount of blood had been shed. He stared out the window and forced himself to breathe, remembering the red. The face—no that wasn’t right. There wasn’t really a face in this moon. Not like Termina’s at least. He went back to bed, covering himself with the blanket and putting his head on the pillow but no matter how much he tossed and turned, he couldn’t fall back into that peaceful sleep from before.

He heard the twist of the doorknob and his door was pushed open, as quietly as possible. He saw green and blonde and a familiar face enter the room, closing the door gently behind him. The captain came over and said softly, “You’re awake.”

“Can’t sleep,” He said truthfully. “But I’ll get over it.”

“You don’t have to hide around me, Mask.”

Time sucked in the icy air, turning away. Wars put a hand on his shoulder, eyes shining with nothing but warmth. “Answer me honestly, are you okay right now?”

He took a long moment to answer before he wordlessly shook his head. The captain made a soft noise and asked quietly if he could hug him and the old man let himself be wrapped in a hug, in the scarred yet warm and wrong arms of his brother. “You don’t have to tell me why, but I want you to know I’m here if you need anything. I’d go fight the moon for you.”

Time choked on wet laughter, knowing that Wars had no idea how much that would help him. He leaned into the captain’s embrace and the restless hours of the night caught up to him. He was safe. He wasn’t alone. He let warm tears fall as he closed his eyes and soon drifted into darkness.

IM SO SORRY I HAVENT LOOKED AT MY INBOX IN AGES☠️☠️☠️

This is LOVELY!!! I love that Time in his panic goes outside and is immediately surrounded by monsters while he's having PTSD flashbacks to termina! And wild and wars helping him fight and also comfort him is so sweet❤️❤️❤️

They're brothers!!

Thank you so much Uni🥰

[kikker-oma]

ALLIIIICCEEE

I love it🥺🥺🥺💔💔💔💔

I freaking love Four and Time interacting, and I know this is based of my art but you did it SO WELL!!

Four is so inderstanifnand gentle, but he doesn't coddle and I feel like that's what Time would appreciate🥺 comfort but with dignity

Twi probs feels so lost like "crap my ancestor is panicking and I can't help, better get Wars" lol

I think it's cute that wars gave his report and then let them be too❤️

AAAAAHHHH LOVED THIS THANK YOUUUUU

Part 2 of that fic idea, based on @kikker-oma's fantastic Whumptober art. (Part 1 is here).

This time it's based on Day 11: Examination

Four groaned as he was shaken awake by Twilight. It couldn't possibly be morning already…

But then he became aware of the alarmed tones in his brothers' hushed voices. He opened his eyes and sat up as Wind - at the other end of the same bed; they were the only ones small enough to share - scrambled off the bed and ran to the window. Four rubbed his eyes. The moonlight flooding into the room looked oddly red.

"I'm going to ask the innkeeper," said Warriors. "Twilight, come with me."

Four gasped as he looked out of the window. It hadn't been his imagination; the moon was blood-red.

"Where's Time?" asked Twilight.

"I'll go check on him," said Four. "You go with Warriors."

Twilight hesitated, but before he could reply Four was climbing the stairs to the attic room, leaping up them two at a time. He knocked on the door, but there was no answer.

The old man might still be asleep, but he wasn't normally a very heavy sleeper. Four knocked again, pressing his ear to the door.

This time he thought he heard a faint, horrible whimpering noise.

He didn't wait any longer; he shoved the door open.

Time was sitting on the bed, his back to the window, the moon shining behind him. His eye was wide and he was staring blankly at the floor, trembling, visibly struggling for breath.

Four's heart skipped a beat as possibilities flashed through his mind. Poison. Magic. Maybe the red moonlight was doing something, though that wasn't likely given that nobody else had been affected…

Even as he was thinking, he ran to the old man's side. Time took another desperate, strangled gasp.

"Time?" said Four softly, crouching to look up at his friend's face. "Link, can you hear me?"

Time's eye squeezed closed and he nodded, a tear suddenly spilling down his cheek.

"Four…" he managed, the word coming out in a croak. "Help…"

Good, he's aware.

Though the soft plea wrung at Four's heart, he had to stay focussed. The next most important thing was Time's breathing.

"Time, can you take a breath for me?"

Time gasped in another of those sharp, almost agonal gulps of air.

"OK, and out again."

It came out in a panicked whimper.

"And in. Try and breathe a little deeper, it's OK."

Time gasped and slurred, "Gotta go… gotta…"

"It's OK. Once we've got you breathing properly you can go."

More tears were trickling down Time's cheeks as he struggled to take another, deeper breath. Four climbed onto the bed next to him and pressed an ear to his back, listening for any sound of blockage or injury.

"Again, as deep as you can."

A gasp.

"And out. Nice and steady."

A moan.

They kept going, Four coaching Time's breathing. He couldn't hear anything except the frantic pounding of Time's heart.

"No time," whimpered Time. "No, have… have to…"

"Deep breath in, Time. It's OK."

Time's breath was steadying gradually and he slumped. Four grabbed his shoulder to stop him pitching head-first off the bed, but he hadn't fainted, he was just leaning on his elbows, his head hanging.

"Easy, old man. Another deep breath."

"I… It…"

"Shh. I know, Time, but I need you to take a deep breath for me."

This time the breath was deeper, though Time shuddered pitifully as he forced it into his lungs and out again. Four still couldn't hear anything wrong.

"Keep going," he said, rubbing comforting circles on Time's shoulder. "In… and out… In… and out…"

Slowly, Time's breathing eased and shifted into exhausted sobs.

"I can't… not again…" he croaked.

Now confident that there was nothing physically wrong and nothing preventing Time from breathing, Four shifted back to sit beside him, taking his hand in one of his own and continuing to rub Time's back with the other as he kept coaching his breathing.

"Not again… Please…"

"It's OK, Time, you don't have to do anything. We'll take care of it." Four heard footsteps on the stairs and looked up, raising a hand to halt Twilight in the doorway. The rancher stared in horror for a moment, but when Four waved his hand in an urgent shoo! motion he backed away. Four was glad; the last thing Time would want was too many people crowding around him.

Time didn't seem to have noticed his mentee's presence, still lost in his own world.

"Time, can you still hear me?" asked Four.

Time shuddered and nodded.

"Is the problem to do with the moon?"

Another nod. "I… I can't. Not again. D-Don't…"

More footsteps on the stairs and Four looked up again. This time it was Warriors, Twilight behind him. He too paused in the doorway, but he pointed past Four and Time at the moon and raised a questioning eyebrow. Four nodded and started to shoo Warriors away as he had Twilight, but the captain walked in and knelt down in front of Time, taking the hand Four wasn't holding.

"Time, we've spoken to the innkeeper about the moon," he said clearly. "This has happened before. There will be a surge of dark magic in an hour or so, but it is not an immediate danger. Do you understand?"

For a moment Four thought Time hadn't heard, but then he took a slightly deeper breath.

"There is no immediate danger," Warriors repeated, still speaking clearly. "Do you understand, Link?"

Time nodded, taking another hiccupping breath. Warriors gently squeezed his hand.

"Come and join us when you can," he said gently. Then he got up, nodded to Four, and left again, herding Twilight with him. Four turned back to Time and started coaching his breathing again, rubbing his back as the gulping, desperate sobs eased. Slowly, Time relaxed to lean against Four's shoulder, clearly exhausted as the emotion drained out of him.

"I… I'm sorry, Smithy," he said softly.

Four squeezed his hand. "Don't be."

"Shouldn'... have had… to see that."

"It's OK. Take a break for a bit and then we'll go join the others and hear what the innkeeper told Warriors."

Time nodded. "Thank you."

[kikker-oma]

I made another thing based off of your whumptober art :)

This one in particular:

The old man sat on a log near the crackling campfire, awake for his watch and he had set his eye on someone in particular who had seemed...off. The vet was tossing and turning in his bedroll, eyes squeezed shut when he could see his face, but it wasn't relaxed like when he was asleep. He eventually crept down and whispered, "Vet?"

The veteran's eyes opened slightly, and the old man just noticed the bags under his eyes. "Yeah?" He replied in a whisper.

"I noticed you hadn't gone to sleep yet. It's third watch."

Legend groaned. "I haven't been able to fall asleep for a while, but I tried everything I could. Nothing to do about it."

That was worrying.

"Are you sure? I know a remedy, that you most likely haven't tried."

"Go for it, old man, I'll do anything at this point."

He pulled out the ocarina, and played the Song of Healing, closing his eyes to let the soothing melody reach the vet's waiting ears. He nearly fell asleep himself but finished the tune and opened his eyes. The veteran had his eyes closed and though he wasn't quite asleep yet, Time smiled, hoping that this would do the trick and did a quick patrol.

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

The old man noticed things. From the vet's stumbling and sloppiness during battle, to mess ups with conversations and answers. His seemingly random mood swings which seemed quite unusual for him. He had confessed that the song didn't do anything and for literal magic to not work, well, Time was more than confused. He had kept it to himself because the veteran pleaded with him to not worry the others.

One night he had second watch, and the vet had somehow ended up with first. He slept peacefully until he woke up and realized it was his turn for watch, and he hadn't been woken up by someone else. (His internal clock told him it was approximately halfway into second watch.) So he got up immediately, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and what he saw shook him.

The vet was trembling on his knees, and when the old man rushed to talk he noticed the expression on his face. There were tears pouring down his face, and his eyes were barely open, staring off into space. The old man noticed that the veteran's hands were shaking even more, arms wrapped around air. "Veteran?" Time spoke loudly. "Link?"

When he got no response, he got down on his knees in front of Legend and took his arms, repeating his name. "Uncle?" Legend mumbled wearily. "What're you doin'?"

"I need you to stay here, I'm going to go find help."

"Nnnooo, don't leave me," Legend gasped deliriously. "If you go to th' castle..."

"I'm not going to the castle," Time tried to reassure. "I just need you to stay with me, okay?"

"M'kay."

He whistled sharply, getting everyone up because this situation was getting dire and he needed help. "What's going on?" The captain questioned, voice a bit frantic.

"Our veteran. He needs help."

They were at his side instantly. "'ncle who're these people," the vet slurred, still staring off into nothing.

"Is he sick?" Sky frowned.

"I don't think he's been sleeping, at all recently," Time worried. "He said he tried everything but still couldn't sleep."

"I'm not trained for this stuff, I'm afraid," Warriors shook his head. "Traveller?"

"All I know how to do is magic," The traveller replied and shrugged looking downcast at the fact.

"Oh!" Wind snapped his fingers. "Someone on Outset had a similar problem. It was because they were really stressed and they fell asleep once they were more relaxed."

"Stress? That seems plausible," Warriors nodded.

"Link," Time uttered, catching the veteran's slow attention. "Tell me, are you stressed about anything? Worried?"

"I mean, 's a quest, Uncle, of course I'm going to be stressed sometimes."

"I know, but right now, what's troubling you specifically?"

"You're always so kind," Legend muttered after a long moment.

"This isn't going anywhere," Four whispered.

"Uncle, don't die."

Time swallowed concern for that statement, said with desperation and he looked helplessly at the rest of them. What could they really do? Why couldn't he figure this out? The chain looked at them as a leader, so why was he feeling so helpless right now? Why couldn't he help one of his boys?

Then there was one sentence that nearly drove the old man to his knees.

"If you die, Grandma Malon is gonna kill me...she already lost th' Hero 'f Time, and you're just as important. Don' leave me to save the world like he did."

THAT LAST LINE OMGGGGGGGG

LOOOOOORE!!

SECRETS SPILLED!!

THE REALIZATIONS TO FOLLOW!! AAAAAAGGHHHGGSHXJSBAHAIA

The Ocarina was such a good try, poor boys just don't know how they can deal with this sweet little sleep deprived man🥺

Gosh sleep deprivation is no joke, it's brutal for real

Thank you so much for writing this Uni! Your writing is a treasure as always❤️❤️❤️

[lampochkaart]

This is one of my favorite scenes in the fic

If this intrigues you, you should go and read 13 Students Remain by @whattheskyknows 👀

[backpackevil]

Going absolutely INSANE over @whattheskyknows 's fic Galaxy Masquerade everyone go read it RIGHT NOW

I cannot put into words how good this fic is, it has completely taken over every braincell I ever had and I physically couldn't Not draw Koki- I mean uhhhh phantom thief... whose identity is unknown... obviously

Anyway

+ also some close-ups

[kikker-oma]

TRRRIIIIIIIIINNNNNNNNN

YO

OH MY GREAT GOODNESS

WHAT - WHEN THE- HOW THE-

Girl ok when I say this is SO GOOD im dying when do because it's soooooo goooooood!!!!

Like omg the way you describe Twi's lack of strength and oain and the rushing in his ears, it really felt like I was passing out too! (And I have, many many times before haha)

And the way he just like, ceases to exist while he self stitches himself?! And the way he gets CAUGHT AGAIN BUT THIS TIME THR CAPTAIN AND WILD ARE THERE TO HELP?!

AAAAVSISOANSJWKA

girl you wrote ✨the line✨ twice!! "what did they do to you" has me forever in a chokehold for the best whump line in history. And the alcohol Wars has Twi drink and the way Wild comes in late with blood spattered on him👀👀👀👀 these boys mean business after what their brother went through dangit

I LOVE THIS THANK YOU SO MUCH😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️

@kikker-oma your Twilight art for Whumptober has been living rent-free in my head since you posted it and I FINALLY wrote something for it. I hope you enjoy <33

Fic beneath the cut (you can also find it on ao3!)

TW for blood and injury, needles/stitches, drugging, and kidnapping

No one asks if he needs help.

Not that Twilight expects anything more. This town is a rough one. That much is painfully clear to him. And not just in the worn woods of the buildings splotched with aged crimson, or in the hardened faces of the people that leer as he stumbles down the worn street. No, from the moment he was dragged here he knew it was a haven for evil.

Cruel hands pushing at his shoulders, fingernails digging into his wounds. Ropes around his wrists, his neck.

The pain isn’t enough to make him move faster.

They yank at his bindings. Choking, he trips over his own stumbling feet. Laughter collides with his pounding skull.

“What’s wrong, wolf boy? Lost your balance?”

Another tug on the makeshift collar. His vision goes white.

Twilight drags in a haggard breath. The taste of blood is still pungent on his tongue. Whether it is his own or that of the people who had sought to pawn him off, he no longer knows. Regardless, it makes him want to gag.

That is not the only place it has taken up residence either. Thick rivers of crimson slither down his right arm, curving gracefully along the deep, jagged gash there. Downward they plunge in large droplets that splatter onto the dusty cobblestones.

A woman passes him just a bit too close, and her gaze locks onto his wound. Twilight knows the look that comes into her eyes. Hunger. Unbridled, animalistic hunger.

He has been a wolf for long enough now to know the laws of nature. Injury means weakness. And weakness spells death.

Clutching his arm, he veers left, toward the inn that rises, a single crooked tooth among the many that form a disjointed line in this gaping maw. Nowhere is safe here. Nowhere is friendly. But his brothers are eons away for all he knows. And there are no heroes in this Hyrule.

Perhaps that’s why the Shadow had hurled him into it.

…or perhaps he had known what Twilight has learned time and time again.

No place is safe for someone like him.

One mistake, one quick, accidental portrayal of the power he holds…and the next thing he knows a dagger is slicing his arm, a needle piercing his neck, ropes encircling him like the arms of a redead, constricting until he is suffocating, until his sword clatters to the ground, his vision turning to little more than kaleidoscope explosions of light.

“Oh, the money we’ll get for this one. A wolf that can become a man? People would pay anything to see somethin’ such as that.”

Bile rises in his throat. Twilight chokes it back down. He needs a place to lay low and he needs it now.

The woman is not the only one to have taken note of his condition. He can feel others ghosting the space around him and behind, breathing down his neck, reaching toward him with skeletal hands, purring that he, “come, little one. We feel your magic. Come, and let us devour it.”

He can’t breathe though the collar is gone. His hands tremble as he grips the rail, fighting not to fall as he climbs the handful of stairs leading to the decrepit structure. His knees are weak. Pain pounds through his veins, mixing with the surging fear until they are entwined in an endless waltz of mind-numbing agony. It is all he can do to walk through the double doors and into the lobby; all he can do to stagger up to the front desk.

“I need a room,” he grits out between clenched teeth. Blood runs down the side of his mouth and he lacks the will to wipe it away. “How much?”

The innkeeper regards him, pointed disinterest in his bloodshot eyes. He looks Twilight up and down, taking in his disheveled clothing, the pelt lying defeatedly across his shoulders, the gash raining ruby-red droplets of life upon the battered floorboards. Then, he folds his bony fingers and sets them calmly before him.

“50 rupees for one night.”

Twilight plunges a hand into his pouch and draws it out trembling and blood-soaked. The rupees clatter on the table, shining like precious gemstones. Just as quickly as they are set free, their glow is snuffed out by the innkeeper’s clawed hand. With agonizing slowness, he places them in a locked box beneath the desk. Then, he slides a large key towards Twilight.

“Room eight,” he growls. “Supposin’ you make it long enough to get there.”

There is laughter in his voice, rumbling thunder of an oncoming storm. Twilight turns away.

He limps up the stairs and stumbles down the hall, leaving gore-adorned handprints on the walls and railing as he goes. They glare in his peripheral vision, splotched and jagged and fierce. He squints and they blur. The colors meld before his eyes. Swirling and sparkling, they close in, envelope him, heavy with the scent of death.

Again, his stomach revolts. Again, he bites his tongue before anything can escape.

The door comes into view, the number 8 carved in two looping circles upon its ashen surface. He collapses against it, catching himself on the frame, and with shaking hands levels the key toward the lock.

It takes several tries to get it open. But once he’s managed it, he practically falls into the room. The door slides closed of its own accord and he allows himself to slump against it.

There is a bed in the far corner, a sad little object he supposes is meant to be a nightstand beside it. He lacks the strength to reach either one of them. Twilight can hardly keep his eyes open as it is, can hardly resist the intoxicating pull of unconsciousness. The rush in his ears blankets his senses. Darkness spreads its jaws beneath him. To the beat of his heart, it chants its promises, promises of freedom from the burning pain, from the terror of being hunted.

He is sinking beneath a surface thicker, deeper, heavier than Lake Hylia. Viciously, he kicks toward the light.

One more mistake will land him in the musty basement he had hardly managed to escape, bound and gagged, drifting in a daze of remnant drugs, waiting for the moment when he will be hauled up into the blinding sun and handed off to whoever has scrounged up enough money to purchase him.

He won’t go back. He won’t.

Dragging in a sharp breath, he reaches into his pouch, rifling past bottles long drained and items that do him little good in this situation. The objects he is searching for are far duller than his spinner or his gale boomerang. But they are all he has.

He pulls them out, gazes at them. A sewing needle still threaded from the last time he had needed to darn his clothes, and some fabric thread, dark and thick. Sturdy.

The needle glints in the hazy streaks of sunlight that shine through the filthy window panes. The tremble of his hands causes the reflections to enlarge and shrink, darkness and light dancing across the slender, metallic surface. Never before has it looked quite so threatening.

Twilight clutches it in one hand and with the other, fishes a handkerchief out of his pocket. The sight of it conjures memories of a small hand brushing tears from his cheek, of a soft cloth being wound gently about his burns, hesitant vulnerability in the crimson eye that gazes into his.

“Hey, don’t cry, alright? Your family doesn’t hate you. They’re afraid.”

“Of me, Midna. They think I’m a monster.”

“You? A monster? Nah. A monstrous softy maybe. And a monstrous idiot. But never an actual monster. Believe me…I know monsters better than most.”

His next breath is more akin to a sob. Twilight wads up the cloth, shoves it in his mouth, and bites down hard. He allows himself a moment to get the needle into a somewhat secure grip. Then, he angles it towards the place where his skin begins to split.

Pushing it through hurts far worse than he ever imagined it would. The needle burrows through his flesh with agonizing slowness, emerging from one side of the divide only for him to plunge it into the other in the next second. And the thread follows dutifully, snaking lazily along and dragging his skin with it. Like a worn workhorse pulling a cart home after a long day, it treads its set path. He hardly has the strength to keep it from veering completely off.

Tears rush hot and eager into his eyes. They spill over, coursing in salty rivulets down his cheeks. His body screams with agony. His head pounds, blood roaring in his ears, stomach roiling. Crimson liquid streams from his wound, coating his fingers, turning the needle slick, darkening the thread into the deepest obsidian.

One stitch is finished, then two, three, four…a series of inelegant dashes waltzing along on rivers of gore.

He loses count of them at some point. His world narrows and simplifies until it is nothing more than this moment, this seemingly endless struggle to keep himself afloat in an ocean of agony, to keep from screaming or swooning, his fingers from slipping from their death grip on the needle.

More than once, the dismal fog that clouds his vision grows so overwhelming he nearly plummets into it. More than once, a strangled whine tears up his aching throat. More than once, he pierces uninjured skin on accident, bringing fresh bubbles of blood to the surface.

But never does the cloth slip from between his tightly clenched teeth. The jolt of pain in his jaw is hardly noticeable amongst the bone-deep agony that grips his arm.

It is only when at last, the final stitch is in place and he has blinked the traitorous gleam of stars from his vision, that he lets it fall. It flops onto the floor, a sodden mess of tears and blood, sweat and saliva. Twilight stares at it for a moment, then at the line of clumsy stitching weeping red.

He leans sideways and retches.

----------------------------------------------------

By the time Twilight stumbles out onto the road, he is shivering.

He wraps one arm protectively around himself. The other hangs at his side, leaden with pain.

The shadowed alleyways leer, caverns of ravenous black. The surrounding buildings reach out with their claws to drag him into their terrible embrace. Passerby stare at him with those same hungry eyes as before, whispering, murmuring.

He is glad the unrelenting ring in his ears blocks out their words.

The innkeeper had laughed at him again when he had returned the blood-stained key.

“Still alive, are you? Well, you won’t be for much longer. Not in your state.”

Twilight hadn’t been certain whether he was referring to his declining health or the willingness of the townspeople to take advantage of it. Regardless, that statement is more than enough to have bouncing about in his pounding skull.

More than enough to keep him moving forward.

Out. He needs to get out of this town. Then, he can stop. Then, he can allow his aching legs to give way beneath him, his half-lidded eyes to slip shut. Then, he can finally sleep.

Until that moment, this is the reality he must battle through — pain and feverish confusion and a haze of oddly distant fear.

He bites out a thin exhale from between chattering teeth. The ground bucks and heaves in waves beneath his failing feet. The genial afternoon sky whirls in patterns he cannot comprehend.

Should’ve cleaned that wound, he thinks, blurrily.

But there hadn’t been anything to clean it with. No potions or blessed objects to drive away the infection, or flames to disinfect and cauterize, or water to wash away the blood and grime…

Water.

Twilight swallows, forcing the walls of his throat apart.

He needs water. He’s so thirsty.

Two more shuffling half-steps and his body decides it has had enough. Twilight goes down in a heap of bloodied limbs, fingers scraping along a nearby wall as he attempts to catch himself.

Get up! He orders himself as he has so many times before in dungeons and forests and caves miles deep, caverns miles long. Come on, Link, you can’t give up now. Not when you’ve made it so far.

“Oh, what have we here?”

He raises his head, stares into the drifting faces of several sizable men. He cannot make out their expressions, blurred as they are. But he can see their eyes. He can see the metal that glints in their hands.

And though he doesn’t recognize them, he knows them. They have the same look about them as his captors had. They too had gazed at him as though he was meat to slice up and sell at the market.

“Looks like we’ve got a wounded one. Tried to mend that all on your own did ya?”

Twilight’s lips lift in a snarl, showcasing jagged, pointy canines.

“Leave me alone,” he croaks. His voice cracks over the last word, hitched into something dangerously close to a sob.

Desperation rises hot and fast within him. He tries to shove himself to his feet.

They grab his arms before he can.

“Not so fast.”

The largest of them — a burly man he guesses is their leader — grasps his chin, roughly angling his head up so Twilight has no choice but to look him in the eye.

“You’re not going anywhere. I smell magic on you, boy.”

A growl rumbles in his throat. Twilight yanks his face away, struggling weakly in their unforgiving grips.

“What do ya say?” The leader turns from him to grin at his companions. “How many rupees is he worth?”

“Get him to show us what all that magic can do and we’ll get at least a thousand.”

Greedy chuckles go up from the huddle. Twilight sucks in a failed attempt at an inhale. Yet another series of shivers race through him, and he crumples in their wake. It is all too much — the pain, the fear, the laughter echoing around him. It surrounds him, encompassing him in an unending nightmare.

He needs to fight. He needs to run. He can’t find the strength to do either one.

After everything, everything, he is here once more. His attempts at a struggle are nothing to these men. They will bind him, they will drag him away. And he will be helpless to do anything more than hang limply in their iron grasp.

“Alright then, boy, show us what you can do.” The leader grins. It is a sharp, bitter thing. “Give us a proper performance and we won’t hurt you. But withhold that power and, well…you won’t live to regret it.”

A knife caresses the curve of his neck. Twilight raises his head, narrows his eyes. Terror turns feverish heat to an icy chill that settles deep in his bones and races through him in violent shudders.

“No.”

The word is bitten out between shaky inhales. But he pours what little might he has left into it.

If he is going to go down, he will do so with pride. Pride that at the very least, he tried.

“No?” The knife digs deeper, seeking its prey. “That’s not the kind of thing you spit in the face of the man holding a weapon to your throat.”

He leans in. Twilight holds his gaze, even as black splotches encroach on his line of sight, ebbing and flowing like a river lapping gently at the bank.

“I’ll only ask this one more time. Show us your power.”

“You may not like it if he does,” pipes up a voice from somewhere behind the group.

Twilight’s eyes go wide.

Warriors? His scrambled brain cries.

But it can’t be, it can’t…

An arrow flies out of nowhere and pierces the leader’s hand with a nauseating thunk. The knife clatters to the ground.

“My friend happens to be a skilled marksman,” comes Warriors’ voice again. It echoes over the sound of agonized screams. “But he has other talents too…and little mercy. Get back. Let him go. Or you’ll regret it.”

“No!”

The grip on his shoulders tightens. Another dagger is pressed to his throat. Twilight hardly has the energy to fear it this time.

But there is no reason to. Another second and the clawing grasp disappears entirely. The chilled metal falls, useless beside its mate.

There is no scream. Only the dull, slick sound of a blade forcing through skin, then retreating as fast as it came. At the same time, another arrow soars past. It is every bit as precise as before. And this time, it strikes the leader through the heart.

Two bodies fall with a thud that echoes through Twilight’s ears. He slouches sideways, sinking enveloped in the melody of anguish.

Warriors catapults into view, a whirl of emeralds and fierce royal blues. One swift movement and Twilight collapses onto his shoulder rather than the blood-slicked ground.

“W-wars,” he starts to say, but the captain is already pulling him to his feet with a grunt of effort.

“Can you walk?” He asks and the tone of his voice is one Twilight has only heard him use when he is leading.

Arduously, he nods.

The others fall one by one as Warriors half-ushers, half-drags him forward. Where they are going, he hasn’t a clue and he lacks the will to ask. He merely follows, stumbling on fumbling feet and hanging onto the miraculous dream he has wandered into.

At some point, they emerge from the confines of the shoddy town into a blessedly wooded area. Twilight sinks down as soon as they come to a stop. Warriors helps him lean back against one of the large trees.

Only then does the captain truly take him in. His gaze before had been calculating and distant, thoughts and cares locked behind an impenetrable barrier. But now that wall lowers just enough for Twilight to see the darkness shine through it.

“What did they do to you?” It is a mere hiss, not even directed at him. But Twilight feels an empty reply rising in his throat anyway.

All that comes out is a thick cough.

Aether eyes find his. A handkerchief slips into his grasp.

“Don’t speak, save your energy.” Practiced fingers ghost his most severe wound. “You stitched this up yourself?”

Twilight doesn’t need to even attempt to reply. The captain answers the question himself with a nod of his head.

“Yeah, I’m going to have to remove those stitches, clean it, then stitch it up again.”

He speaks fast, words tumbling in an unending stream Twilight is hopeless to follow. He watches dumbly as Warriors digs into his pouch, sets a pristine cloth on the ground, and lines several objects up upon it.

“Here.” He presses a bottle into Twilight’s hands. Liquid the color of maple syrup glitters inside. “Take a few drinks. I won’t pretend this won’t hurt. You’re going to need something to dull the pain.”

Twilight watches him press a small dagger against the molten tip of a fire rod, and suddenly, a streak of gut-rending dread pierces through the fog. Dutifully, he lifts the bottle to his lips, chokes back a few scalding swallows, and tries to breathe as it melts its way into his veins.

“How’d-how’d you find me?” He grits out. Fuzzy thoughts become almost unintelligible beneath the touch of alcohol. But this, at least, he must know.

Somewhere behind him, frantic footsteps crunch on fallen leaves. Warriors glances up from his work, hand flying to his sword for a split second before he lowers it with a grim smile.

“It wasn’t me,” he says. “Turns out your cub is good at tracking. I’m lucky we ended up together when we were separated from the others.”

Wild comes racing into view like a shooting star, hair flying out behind him, bow held tightly in one hand. He slings it over his shoulder as he skids to a halt.

“Twi! Are you okay — oh Hylia, what did they do to you?” The words pour out of him in a waterfall of emotion.

There is blood on his cheek, Twilight realizes dimly. He is too far gone to know whether it is his own or not.

“You ‘lright, cub?” He slurs, reaching to try to wipe it away.

Wild catches his flailing hand and lowers it, with trembling care.

“You idiot.” There is no heat in his tone, only fear. Exasperated, terrible fear. “You need to be worrying about yourself! You look like a hynox sat on you!”

An insane giggle erupts from the rancher, born of pain and anguish and giddy relief. He lists sideways, and Wild wraps his arms around him, drawing his head to his chest.

“Champion.” Warriors has a dagger in his hand now. A needle and thread rest on the cloth beside him. “Hold him tight. I’ve got to mend this wound.”

Fingers press against his screaming skin, gentle yet firm. Metal gleams in the setting sun. Wild’s heart beats fast in his ear. Fingers card through his matted hair.

The captain meets his eyes.

“And rancher, take a deep breath. We’re going to take care of you now.”

Wild’s hand envelopes his, heedless of the blood that turns Twilight’s fingers sticky. He grasps it like his life depends upon it. And as Warriors begins his terrible work, he closes his eyes.

[kikker-oma]

I made a small fic for this piece of art you did bc it stuck me with emotion and I couldn’t resist

the art:

Time walked through the inn hallways, carrying a glass of water for the traveller, who had succumbed to magic exhaustion and was resting peacefully for the time being. He heard a keening sob, and then a sniffle and paused, the water splashing slightly from the abrupt stop. He followed the sound to the room where the sailor, the smithy, and the captain were staying. Worriedly, he knocked on the door with his free hand. “What?” Came a worn, small voice and the old man’s heart stuttered. 

“Can I come in?”

“I—“ A hiccup. “Yeah.”

He turned the knob and opened the door, stepping inside and examining the room, seeing the familiar blue tunic of the sailor’s and recognizing Wind, sitting on one of the bed’s with his legs dangling on the ground. He met Wind’s eyes and saw the tears and softened, closing the door shut as quietly as he could. “Hey, what’s wrong?” Time approached the kid slowly.

When all he got was a barely bit back sob he sat down next to the sailor and noticed he was clutching a telescope tightly to his chest, so tightly his knuckles were white. He didn’t press, merely laid a hand on his shoulder. And Wind looked back at the old man with streams of tears falling down his cheeks and dripping down his chin, his eyebrows pressed and he released his tense grip on the telescope holding it up slightly. “Y’know—sometimes I stay up…A-and I think about what she went through.”

She. Time held his breath, wondering who this girl was but also finding himself nearly at tears seeing and hearing this. Wind hiccuped again. “And—I th-think that.”

A sob tore its way out of the kid’s mouth and Time uttered something softly, a reassurance. Wind continued anyway. “It r-really should’ve been me.”

“No. I don’t know what happened, but you don’t deserve whatever was so bad that she went through.”

“My s-sister, she was kidnapped. She was only six years old—“ Wind gasped. “And she has nightmares of her time in a cell. I would’ve been able to handle it, old man. It should’ve been me.” 

And didn’t that make Time’s heart ache more than ever. He hugged the kid. “She’s safe now, right?” 

“W-well yeah…”

“Because you rescued her. Who would’ve been there to save you had you been in her stead?” 

He got no reply, just a muffled hiccup. Time wiped the kid’s tears away. “We can’t change the past. And no matter what your mind may tell you, even though your sister has gone through a lot, she still has you, right? You’re both still alive.” 

He wasn’t expecting a response. He wasn’t expecting anything from the poor kid right now. 

Kids. These are just kids.

Time waited patiently, keeping the sailor company as he took in what was just said and continued to cry, until Wind spoke, saying, “This telescope is my sister’s. She let me borrow it, before she…Y’know got kidnapped but when I tried to give it back she insisted that I needed it more.” 

“I see. She sounds kind.”

“She is. She helps out where she can and she comforts me when I have nightmares and Grandma isn’t there to,” Wind sniffled, rubbing his eyes. “Aryll’s the whole reason I’m out there, looking for a new place to call Hyrule. I just wish she hadn’t had to go through what she did.”

“I find myself wanting to meet her,” Time hummed. “Is she younger or older than you?” 

“Younger. When she got k-kidnapped I was about 11.”

And so the old man stood up, and smiled softly back down at the sailor. “Would you like to check on the traveller with me? I was giving him some water.”

“Yes!” Wind smiled back, hopping up and following the old man through the inn.

I feel sick. These kids have gone through so much…because I wasn’t there. I abandoned them.

ASHAJAJAHFJF

Time comforting Wind is SO PRECIOUS!!!

Dad vibes DAD VIBES DAD VIBES!!!

Oh wind is such a selfless older brother, he cares so much and is so sacrificing out of love!

I adore that time doesn't expect anything from wind, just talks with him and comforts, and then gives him the option to help Hyrule totake his mind off of it. A nice distraction while also fulfilling the need to do more and help❤️

Oh but Tiiiiimmme don't you start feeling the same way!! Someone tell this man to listen to his own words!!

Thank you Uni, this was SUCH a lovely surprise!!!!!

[skyloftian-nutcase]

I forgot to share this, @kikker-oma had made this in honor of Abel's surprise appearance in the Healthcare AU and gave me permission to share it, so here it is in all its glory because she is an absolutely phenomenal artist <3 <3 <3 Healthcare Hyrule in his element, and Abel having a pretty typical day for his sad, angsty life (RIP my beloved blorbo LOL)

[lampochkaart]

Hey, guys!

I finally found time and energy to edit and rewrite some parts in my fic for my DRV3 Exlibrium AU

I also drew a picture that appears in this fic that you can see in this post

You can read the new version of the fic here:

I rewrote some things I didn't exactly liked, and added a scene inside the House of Bones (because I realised that you need knowledge of the comic itself to understand what happens and most people who read the fic do not have that knowledge so i shouldn't be a coward and actually write the scene)

So, anyway, if you're interested, you can read it, I think I turned out pretty cool

Also, I will edit the other fic of this AU soon too

[kikker-oma]

I was literally and actually speechless for 20 MINUTES����😭😭😭😭😭😭

This means so so so so so so much to me, like, I'm absolutely and COMPLETELY FLOORED?!🥹🥹🥹

I ACTUALLY SHED A TEAR, DO YOU KNOW HOW HARD IT IS FOR ME TO ACTUALLY CRY?! BECAUSE IT IS, THATS HOW MUCH THIS MEANT TO ME

I can't thank you all enough, I am so incredibly honored by this and this is being printed off and hung up on my wall as the ONLY thing on my walls❤️❤️❤️

The fact that you organized this Luna? And that so many of you joined and gave your precious time and talents to gift this to me? And like, there's so much thought put into this I just like, can't comprehend this, actually

I'm going to be staring at this for the rest of my life and wondering how in the world I deserve all of you🥹

THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU-

I feel like no amount of me thanking you will actually be enough!! AAAAAGSJSOSJZHSIANXHFIRISJABAJS

WWHAT EVEN

I WILL NEVER RECOVER FROM THIS/EXTREMELY POS

@kikker-oma

Happy Fan Joy July, Oma!!!

Oma, thank you so so much for making Fan Joy July and sharing it with us! Our fandom, our artists, writers, readers, etc have loved seeing or taking part in this crazy challenge.

This is our gift to thank you- from artists all around who were affected by, or got gifts from, or took part in Fan Joy July. We all love you so much- so we made letters/art for this (Zelda themed!). Many said that they had already wanted to make/write you something, and this gave an opportunity.

One of the things I've loved about this month is how community/interaction centered you made it. The challenge was for yourself to make art each day (you absolute maniac /affectionate)- but then others joined. This July we saw or made art or fics with recommendations. Every day you made art for a writer with a scene from one of their fics, and inspired others to do the same, and writers even wrote every day for an artist based off an art piece they made! This led to a month of gift giving- everyone interacting and getting love for creating.

You truly led to a month of Joy for a lot of loz/lu fans- making the name "Fan Joy July" quite accurate

Thank you, Oma

Thank you for the gifts you gave all of us and the way you inspire others

Additional ramblings and art credits below the cut :P

I'm so grateful to all my artists who stepped up so we could do this when I asked- almost 36 hours and 19 artists. The art is like patchwork, with all these different styles, both traditional and digital put together. But that's exactly what happened- we all got drawn together, just like the other month-long challenges. It's so cool how art always connects people.

The artists who participated are @zolanort @la-sera @nancyheart11 @galenfeadraws @shade-pup-cub @arecaceae175 @isasan347 @ghosthoard @smilesrobotlover @unexpectedstormy @skyloftian-nutcase @knight-of-aether @uniquevoidflowers @jinxedruby @windwakingwhale @skyward-floored @xaeorian @blarefordaglare and me Thank you to all of you- You are all so cool and I'm glad! If I accidentally missed tagging or listing someone please let me know I'm so scared of if that happened djskdjdkd

There are letters based off of the colours/theme of each of the Lu boys- it's mainly Zelda and linkeduniverse themed... but we couldn't not have frogs for Oma! I did a frog, his name is Froggy and I'm very proud.

Here's a picture with a list of who did what-

Normally I would apologise for my handwriting, but you guys would just tell me it looks good anyways and honestly it does look good. :D Sorry for the ink splotches tho, and I hope you can read it.

We did this for you, Oma, because... well you are awesome /gen. You gave us the opportunity for a great month and we wanted to say thank you for all the joy you brought us so... thank you :)

Art :D

As for everyone who said they wanted to talk to Oma or other Fan Joy July artists who they loved sharing this month with... feel free to tag and share in the reblogs. Share the joy I guess- there's enough to go around :D

Happy Fan Joy July, Oma :))

[fried-manto]

A scene from something I wrote:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/50389594

[rainbow-cheshire]

☆ᴄαтᴄн & ʀєℓєαѕє☆ (commission for @sushihara 💙)

was originally planning to work on comms in chronological order but then i remembered today is saiouma day so i stayed up until 4am to finish colouring lol, i swear to god i've been wanting to draw catch & release fan art for so long thank you so much zeph for commissioning me to draw this, i absolutely love reverse phantom thief saiou especially this one and i honestly had a lot of fun working on this, hope you guys like it too! also go read catch & release on ao3 it's by @chuwuyas and it's absolutely amazing (comms are still open but i won't be able to work on it immediately) (bg is inspired by derekdomnicdsouza on insta!)

💙this is a commission piece and therefore reposting this work will not be allowed at all unless you are the one who commissioned this, thank you!💙

[kikker-oma]

hi I decided to write a fanfic based off of one of the hc arts you posted

Also wild’s… insult is based off of this:

Family was once a foreign to the Hero of Men.

Sure, he had his grandfather, and the Minish did welcome him with open arms, but still, it felt empty. 

Not until recent events. 

“I can’t believe it-“ The sailor’s grip was tight, Four could feel his skin turn shades of off-white and red against the grip, you’re doing the same, the logic fought back at him, so he couldn’t bring his heart to let go, “I am you! Or, like, part you, half you? How much time passed?” 

He could only respond with a smile that bore no less than pure joy, “I don’t know-but you’re family.” His gaze felt blurred as liquid happiness pooled in his eyes, his smile raising his cheeks that were flushed with pride. His eyes soon registered a familiar face-the captain waking by, “Hey! Wars!”

The man in question stopped in his tracks, “Yes?” He responded, his tone cautious as he basked in the look on the two’s faces.

“See the family resemblance?” 

Warriors couldn’t help but gaze in confusion, mildly disturbed, “Uh…” he looked up and down, trying to find something, anything, relatively similar, “Big eyes?-“

“No, no, no.” This voice was coming from the champion. His thumbs fiddling with a can of oats. “Blonde.” He began, scooping out a decent amount with his bare hands. 

“Short.” He continued, the grains in question now being crunched on. How was he not choking? That would remain a mystery. Four wanted to break his kneecaps at that comment, yet he allowed the champion to continue.

“And most important of them all,” he knelt down mockingly, a menacing grin on his face, “No abs.” 

His kneecaps got broken in the end. Four could tell by the intensity on how both were broken, they were indeed family.

WAHAHAHA BLARE🤣🤣

This is amazing, they really are related🤣🤣 one family member for each of Wilds blasphemous kneecaps hahaha

Aaahhh four and Wind are SO. CUTE🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭 they're so happy and just wanna brag to their brothers-in-arms🥰🥰🥰

Thank you so much Blare!!

[kikker-oma]

READ THIS PLEASE!!

Ok this characterization of FD isy absolute FAVORITE and even though you said you prefer fierce dadity you wrote this version SO WELL?!?

Ok I didn't even know what Fokka were and omg they're so cool and scary!! They're such an unfamiliar monster to me that it lent even more to the peril the boys were in! And ooohhh Time held out for so long😭😭 and the fact he was reaching for it?! But Wind... WIND!!! My boy!

Oh that's so scary OH BUT HES SO BAMF

OK I LOVE when the FD takes on the looks of the wearer👀 I want to draw this now haha

Gosh, I could keep going but THANK YOU so much for writing this for me! 😭😭

Only For Emergencies

@kikker-oma A gift fic for you! I just had to return the favour after all the amazing art you've done this month. So I dug around in your tumblr until I found something that inspired me. I hope you enjoy!

He said he would never use it again. He promised Malon, promised himself, though the draw towards the power was constant and inescapable. He rarely looked at his reflection anymore, not since the marks had clung greedily to his face. Not since his scarred eye had started seeing things again, things it shouldn't see.  Not since the last time he had worn the Fierce Deity's body as his own. 

And yet for some reason, Time couldn't let it go. He kept the mask with him, buried amongst the others, held for a day when he might need it again. Even though he had promised.

He had even shown it to some of the others in those early days of meeting other men and boys with his name. The young Hero of the Winds had been so interested and Time had appreciated the childlike wonder the teenager still held. It reminded him of his adventuring days, of being even younger than Wind and wanting to save the world, no matter what it took. It reminded him of when he had innocence and wonder before Termina had ground that all away into dust, before the mask had claimed his soul. 

Only for emergencies, he had told the boy.  Never to be worn in play or as a joke.  None of the other Links had cared or listened when he talked about his masks, but Wind had.

(Read the rest on AO3!)

[kkatastrophic]

Danganronpa V3 AU:

They all catch Tsumugi in the first chapter using Kaede's plan and go to the outside world without much idea of what's going on. (including flashback lights, fiction, etc.) turns out Tsumugi used other peoples' identities for the game (there is a famous pianist named Kaede Akamatsu, a leader named Kokichi Oma etc)

All the remaining students are wanted for "identity theft" (although it was out of their control, many questions of drv3 were not answered because it ended so quickly without a resolve.)

The AU revolves around them surviving in an apocalyptic world, on the run from everybody, they're all together trying to survive, and trying to piece together their true pasts.

[nabateaprodigy]

How do you think Kokichi would deal with a reader who is sort of the opposite in personality to him. Like they can’t lie, mellow and just mind their own business yet is mature and patient. They end up becoming friends or lovers cuz if Kokichi pulls a prank on reader, reader gets revenge or if he lies, reader just sasses him back with a tongue sticking out, but there isn’t any hard feelings. He brings out their inner playful side. When he becomes injured, while the others don’t care. Reader actually checks up on him cuz he’s bleeding. He finds out from reader that they feel relaxed around him and don’t find him annoying at all?

Playful Tendencies

Series: Danganronpa.

Characters: Kokichi.

Genre: Fluff.

Proofread: Yes.

Reader: Gender Neutral.

Notes: This is such a cute request! Glad I was able to do it! ^^

An angel that's how Kokichi would describe you far too kind and someone who could never lie. A very mature person who followed the rules and was never seen breaking them. A person who minded their own business unless they wanted to get involved.

Kokichi thought you were perfect...perfect for a prank that is! He didn't think you were perfect because of how you handled yourself or how you appeared to others. He didn't think you were perfect because he wanted to get to know you or better connect with you why would he?

That's what he told himself at least but deep down he knew the truth. So he decided to play pranks on you to ignore what he felt. Your reaction to his playful behavior was what he expected doesn't mean he didn't enjoy seeing the expression on your face any less.

However, something very unexpected that day happened to him. As soon as he entered his dorm room water fell onto him with a bucket soon following. "You aren't the only one who can play pranks around here Kokichi~"

Now Kokichi knew without a doubt you were perfect he knew it in his heart as he watched you walk off while you laughing at him. So that's how it's going to be, is it? Very well this means war!

Since then the two of you would constantly play pranks on each other even if it went into the late hours of the night. After a successful prank, you would stick out at him nothing wrong with rubbing salt in the wound right? But you couldn't both couldn't help it neither would let each other know about it. Not that you minded though you loved this side of Kokichi seeing how playful he is.

But if you thought that's where it ended you were sorely mistaken who better to play pranks on than your classmates? Of course, Miu was the main target of these pranks as her reactions were always the best. Although it would always end up running away together as Miu had thrown things at you while yelling curse words at you both.

You truly loved being with Kokichi you always felt as though you had to keep up an appearance as people thought and saw you in a certain way. At first, you were fine with this it didn't bother you that much but sometimes it was just too much for you. So to play pranks with Kokichi to laugh and smile you loved it and you showed a side of yourself that you've kept locked away.

You just felt so relaxed and at peace when you were with Kokichi it's something you wish could last forever. You knew that wasn't possible however for as long as you knew Kokichi you would remember all the fun moments you had together. He was special to you and you wanted nothing but the best for him.

So that's why it always made you so afraid to see him when he got injured. You didn't feel the need to hide your concern for him he knew you long enough that he could see through your facade. "What's with the gloomy look Y/N? It's just a little scratch nothing serious!" He spoke with a smile on his face as if nothing was wrong.

"A little scratch? It's more than just a little scratch!" You were angry but you were only angry because you cared so much for him. You held his hand in yours as you spoke to him.

"Kokichi you mean a lot to mean okay? To see you injured in any way it worries me. You make me feel so relaxed like nothing else matters and I can be myself and just be alive. So please take better care of yourself alright?" You smile at him.

"..." He said nothing a part of him knew how you felt about him but to hear that? It was something else entirely. So he hugged you keeping both you and himself safe. "Don't know Y/N I'll be careful and...I love you." You smile as you hug him back "I love you too Kokichi."