#lu drabble

[legendofzoodles]

Not Hyrule pushing in front of Sky 👀

Art credit @linkeduniverse :)

[urhoneycombwitch]

common tongue of you lovin' me

Eddie Munson x Reader loverboy smut of the touchstarved variety.

foreword: based on THIS anon everyone say THANKS anon. R and Eddie are in their early 20’s, R is on a gap year from college (so me), they’re in a new relationship with each other, I’m writing this while blasted on edibles idk what else to say 0_o

cw: nervous Eddie, touchstarved R, smut, dry humping (is it actually dry if they’re both wet…?), cumming in pants, one (1) use of the word “daddy”, light use of the miscommunication trope

wc: 2.5k 

____

By nature, Eddie Munson is not a shy person.

Even though his dark reputation in Hawkins hasn’t been completely erased, he still manages to make friends wherever he goes through sheer force of personality. It’s like a magic trick, one that you never get tired of- he’ll pause in the middle of grocery stores to make faces at a baby in a stroller, getting belly laughs out of a stranger’s kid in less than ten seconds while still holding your hand down the aisle. One second he’s right behind you in the record store, looking over your shoulder as you browsed, and the next he’ll be on one knee charming a elementary school-aged kid into getting the latest Dio album.

You’ve seen him flirt his way out of speeding tickets with Hopper, for christ’s sake. 

Eddie isn’t shy by any stretch of the imagination, so after three months of nothing but chaste kisses and quiet hand-holding, you’re left to assume he actually wants to take things slow with you.

He’s been nothing but a gentleman, in these early days of dating- the most action you’ve gotten from him was unintentional. On your third date, a dollop of his ice cream landed on your lap when he used the cone to gesture, which led him to manically grabbing napkins out of his dashboard to wipe at your skirt while you laughed it off. The second he’d brushed against your bare thigh he snapped his hands back like he’d touched a live wire, hastily heaping on apologies, leaving you to allay his nerves while wiping at the stain yourself.  

Which, whatever. It’s fine. It’s not like you’re complaining about him being respectful, per se, it’s just that it’s getting harder and harder (hah) to pretend like you don’t wanna fuck him. The feeling between your thighs only seems to increase in intensity when he gives you one of those precious little hand kisses at the end of a date, or a closed-mouth peck before he drives off into the night. 

Unfortunately for you and your wet dreams, Eddie Munson has the most edible body you’ve ever seen. Biceps bulging through those form-fitting tees he likes to wear, rounded nose and strong jaw outlined by that cloud of soft black hair, those lithe hips…

Hips that you’re openly staring at from across the room as you sit quietly on Eddie’s couch. He’s reaching up to grab a mug from the cabinet, his Metallica tee pulling up out of his dark denim at the motion, flashing a stripe of his pale lower back.  

You feel like a Victorian maid seeing ankle for the first time. You subtly press your thighs together under your short tartan skirt as Eddie moves around the kitchen, talking animatedly about the start of his upcoming campaign.

“I haven’t decided yet if I’m gonna go easy on the little shits or not,” he says, metal spoon clinking against ceramic as he mixes hot chocolate powder. “It’s Max’s first session as an official player, and I don’t wanna scare her off but I do have a reputation to uphold.”

“Yeah,” you agree, giving him a knowing smile as he crosses the room to pass you your mug- “You’re a DM most fearsome. Can’t let them off the hook too easily.”

Eddie blooms under your praise, wiggling his eyebrows with familiar cockiness as he settles on the cushion beside you. “Gotta keep Hawkins' finest in line. It’s a tough gig but I did swear an oath, after all.”

You smile around a sip of hot cocoa, then reach over to set your mug on the coffee table. Eddie has been sat in his usual manner (knees far enough apart to be taking up his whole seat, arm draped casually on the back of the couch) but the second your knee knocks against his, he adjusts himself stiffly, drawing his arm back with a nervous throat-clearing and a murmured “sorry”.

Normally you’d let it go, not wanting to push the issue past the point of his comfortability. But it’s been Three. Months. Of this. And you wanna test the waters, just a little.

“Sorry for what?” You ask, rotating to face him, your shoulders almost-but-not-quite touching.

He’d doing an uncanny impression of a deer caught in headlights, blinking at you with those doey brown eyes, stuttering his way through a weak explanation- “Uh… uh. Sorry for being- f-for touching you?”

There’s a lift at the end of his sentence, one that you mirror with a tilt of your own brow, a playful challenge. “You don’t have to apologize for touching me, Eddie. I’m your girlfriend.”

He chuckles, a nervous edge bleeding around the sound. The curls around his face dance with the head shake he gives. “No, of course, yeah, I know that.”

“Do you?” You scoot closer, a kick of assertiveness giving you the courage to press your leg against his. 

“Uh huh.” He’s gazing openly now at the bare skin of your thigh, like he’s waiting to see if it'll burn a hole into his denim. 

When you gently lift his hand and place it on the skin that he’s looking at, you hear him gulp, audibly. 

So he does want to touch you. Interesting.  

You know for a fact Eddie’s not a virgin. Back in high school, you’d both dated around your respective circles, gossip surrounding escapades in the Munson Van circulating back to you through mutual friends. When he’d asked you out a few months previous, you’d happily accepted, wanting to take full advantage of your interim gap year from college. For the first few weeks, you’d chalked his near-celibate behavior up to nerves.

But now, you’ve got him squirming with just a thigh touch. So maybe… he’s waiting for you to make the first move?

Fuck testing the waters- you’re gonna dive in head-first. 

You swing your leg over his lap, kneeling on the outside of his hips. His hands automatically go to your waist, and he lets out a little “Oh” as you rest your arms around his shoulders.

“You gonna kiss your girlfriend?” you whisper, forehead crushing into his bangs as you wrap a hand around the back of his neck.

Eddie looks up at you like he’s seeing a full moon for the first time, eyes sparkling with want. “Yeah,” he rasps, angling his face up to kiss you.

It’s soft, at first, like it always has been. His plush lips softly move against yours, breaking for air once, twice; when he kisses you with that same softness for a third time you press your tongue to the seam between his lips.

He lets you in with a little noise, low in the back of his throat as you lick into his mouth. His hands twitch on your hips as your tongues twine, slight movements in his own hips creating a ripple effect.

When the hard seam of his jeans bumps against the warmth of your cunt, you both gasp, your hand at the back of his neck tightening. 

“We should probably, um-” he’s panting against your mouth, grip flexing between hard and soft- “I mean, if you wanna stop…”

“I don’t wanna stop. Do you wanna stop?” you ask, equally out of breath.

“Fuck no,” he rasps again, in that smoke-salt voice, and this time when he kisses you it’s with one hand at the back of your head and the other pulling your hips to meet his.

The noises from the wet slide of your mouths are turning you on more than you care to admit, and you’re sure he can feel the damp patch that’s soaking through your panties as the crotch of his jeans make contact again. Which normally would make you feel really self-conscious, if it weren’t for the fact that Eddie’s hard as a rock underneath you, the bulge in his pants thickening with each roll of your hips.

You drop your kisses down, exploring where you haven’t been able to before: against his cheek, his jaw, stopping just behind his ear. Unable to help yourself, you graze your teeth against the velvet skin there, and he jolts beneath you with a small yelp.

“Sorry,” you whisper, still a touch mirthful but soothing your tongue over the mark.

Eddie brushes his thumb across the back of your neck as you continue your path down the column of his throat. “Now who’s sayin’ sorry for no reason. Baby, I’m begging you to do that again.”

So you do, this time at the junction where his neck and shoulder meet, grinning against his skin when he groans and bucks his hips up. 

Around your hickey-making, he’s choking out words that you just manage to string together. “I wanna… make you feel- christ, sweetheart- good too, wanna make it good for you-”

When you sit up to see his face, he looks absolutely wrecked- rosy flush in his cheeks, lips swollen and kiss-bitten, pupils blown so big his eyes are nearly black with lust.

“You are making me feel good,” you assure him, pulling the hand he’s got on your neck down to where the end of your skirt sits, pausing before your next move. “You want me to prove it?”

He nods, and you guide him into the warmth of your thighs, letting his fingers graze the stickiness that’s been steadily soaking through the fabric.

Eddie inhales sharply, moans out, “Fuck, honey”, and when his thumb finds your clit you sink down into his touch, stomach tightening with the shock of arousal coursing through you.

He’s watching your face intently as he slowly circles your clit, gauging your reactions, pressing in a bit harder and faster when the pace change makes you cry out.

Feeling doubly exposed with his eye contact and hand against your core, you try making a joke to diffuse some of the tension as the pad of his finger moves against you in steady rhythm. “Still thinkin’ about stopping?”

“A train could crash through that wall and it wouldn’t stop me for a second,” Eddie says, resolute and getting a little braver, kissing his own path across your throat, nibbling at a spot that makes your clit pulse beneath his fingertip and your cunt clench around nothing. 

Goddamn, he’s a quick learner. In less than two minutes he’s got you so close to the edge, squirming around his touch, that you have to grab his wrist and still his fingers between your thighs.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. You can feel his breath punching up down up, your breasts pushed up against his chest from the way your body was trying to coil in on itself.

“Nothing,” you assure him, and now it’s your turn to falter around your words. “I just- maybe can I… I wanna get o-off at the same time. If you want. And I’m really, really close.”

Eddie’s head falls back against the couch with a thunk, eyes scrunching shut as if in concentration, a strung-out whine leaving his throat. “Hang on. Give me a second.”

He’s still got his hand on your clothed pussy, and you can’t help but giggle once he blinks back to the present, dazed- “Christ. You can’t say shit like that, baby, I almost came in my jeans.”

You give him a condescending little pout, accented with another twist of your hips. “Well maybe that’s what I want.”

“Give you anything,” Eddie replies, unabashedly babbling now as you adjust yourself in his lap. “Anything you want, sweetheart. It’s yours. All yours.”

He helps you maneuver into a new angle: now, your drenched core can rub freely against his thigh, while your knee in the socket of his hip means he can rut his cock along the flat of your leg.

When you move experimentally in shallow circles on his thigh, the newly-gained friction lights up your throbbing clit. Soon, all pretenses melt away as you both find your rhythm again, little grunts and pants filling the air.

“Feel good, angel? That’s it,” Eddie encourages, slipping his hand under your skirt to grope at the meat of your ass, helping your movements along as he chases his own pleasure with a rocking grind against your leg. “Take what you need. Lemme get you there. Please, please…”

His whines spur you on, one of your hands shooting out to clutch at the back of the couch beside his head while the other anchors itself on his opposing bicep. “Fuck, Eddie, keep talking like that, ‘m so close…”

“Talk to you all day,” he heaves out, “you make me so fucking hard, princess. You feel how hard I am for you? God, you’re so wet, that’s so fucking hot…”

You should have expected that bravado and charm you’ve seen these last few years to naturally be carried over into his sex life, but god, not in your wettest of dreams could you have imagined the mouth on him. 

The combination of his dirty talk and thigh between your legs is bringing you right up to that edge again, toes curling in anticipation, cunt starting to flutter erratically with every thrust.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come…” your head rolls back on its hinge, eyes flickering shut as Eddie fumbles to catch at your clit again, movements becoming sloppy. 

“C’mon, pretty baby, let go.” He’s sucking another mark into your neck between his praises, teeth catching- “Let me see you come, honey, be a good girl for daddy…”

“Jesus FUCKING christ�� is all you manage to grit out before you’re tipping over the edge into orgasm, all your muscles bearing down into the bright point of pleasure, high sob winding its way from your throat. 

Eddie keeps kneading at your spasming clit as you ride it out on his thigh, even as he lets out a series of short, keening whimpers, even as his cock jerks against your leg into his own release. 

You sag into his waiting arms, tittering lightly against his neck as you both work on catching your collective breaths. 

“Holy shit, and I was really starting to think you actually didn’t want to fuck me.” You laugh in relief.

His hand pauses mid-stroke up the slope of your back, sounding genuinely aghast when he asks “Why the fuck would you think that?”

You straighten in his arms with an incredulous stare. “Uh, maybe because you acted like a monk that I was corrupting every time I even breathed near you?”

Eddie covers his eyes with his hands, heels to sockets, groaning- “Fuck, honey, I was tryn’a be respectful. You’re telling me we could’ve been doing this sooner?”

You reach to soothe your palms over the length of his forearms, equally fond and serious when you say “I’m telling you I absolutely would have slept with you on the first date.”

He makes a strangled, pained noise before you continue- “You described to me in detail the entire mating cycle of a bat, and then walked directly into a trash can by accident. How did you expect me to wait on jumping your bones?”

He lets you take his hands, enveloping them in your own and bringing them to your chest, pressing your lips affectionately to each ring.

He whispers, “Can I ask you something?” 

When you look up at him again, he says, with sincerity, “Can I see your tits next time?”

You hide your laughter into the crook of his neck. 

________

guys i cannot stress how high I am is this even any good plz perceive me 

[junrenjun]

2:53 PM

na jaemin x reader

The warmth of your apartment is a welcomed sensation as you set the grocery bags down in the entryway. You can hear faint clanging from the kitchen, probably Jaemin fixing a late lunch for the both of you. There’s a song playing in the background and you recognize it as one of your favorites.

Dusting a bit of snow off your jacket, you begin to shed your outerwear and shoes. Warmth finally begins to seep back into your bones. Once all your items are tucked back in their proper place in the coat closet, you grab the bags and make your way to the kitchen. 

Jaemin must hear you approach because he looks over his shoulder from his spot at the stove and beams at you. “How was the store?” he asks softly as you drop the groceries on the counter.

“Good,” you mumble, making your way towards him. He continues to stir whatever he’s cooking as you wrap your arms around his waist and bury your face in his back. “Too cold though,” you say, though it’s barely audible through the material of his shirt. 

“Mm,” he hums, “good thing I’m here to warm you up now.” You smile into his back. One of his hands comes down to rest on top of yours, which lay lightly on his stomach. He makes small, comforting strokes up and down your arm. 

After a few moments of bliss, you lift your head to rest on top of his shoulder. “Whatcha making?” you whisper against his ear. 

His own head comes down to lean against yours. “Just some soup. Figured it's fitting for the weather.” With that statement, you both gaze out the window, where the snow continues to flit towards the ground. You hum in agreement. 

There’s a beat of silence as the song playing on his phone ends. The beginning of “I Think They Call This Love” by Elliot James Reay rings out and you gasp. “I love this song!”

“I know,” Jaemin responds as he reaches over to lower the heat on the burner. Turning in your grasp, he leans down to peck a kiss on your forehead. “Dance with me?” he questions once he pulls away. 

In that moment, you can’t help but fall a little more in love with him. Giggling softly, you grab his hand and pull him out into the open area of the kitchen. His arms wrap around your waist and you lean to put yours around his neck, before beginning to sway to the beat. 

Jaemin has a gentle smile resting on his face, his gaze fixed lovingly on your eyes. The warmth of his hands is comforting on your hips and your heart rate picks up just a bit. He hums along softly to the chorus. You close your eyes and hum along too. Part of you wishes you could stop time and just live in this moment forever. 

But as all things do, the song comes to an end. As the last few notes ring out, he leans down and presses a chaste kiss to your lips. Pulling away, he rests his forehead against your own. “I love you,” he mumbles, breath tickling the tip of your nose. 

“I love you too,” you whisper back. Your eyes are closed, but you can sense the smile on his face. Silence fills the air as the music stops. Another one of your favorite songs fills the air seconds later. “This is a really good playlist,” you say, opening your eyes to look up at him.

“I’d hope so,” he responds. “It’s named after you.”

[yandereunsolved]

𓆝 Poly Platonic Yandere Wild & Twilight 𓆟

Two loyal friends—that's what you have always seen them as. It has never been anything more or anything less. You have always chosen to look the other way at their darker natures. They were simply protective. That's all.  

They comfort you when you're sad. 

Make sure you are taken to Hyrule when injured. 

Wild always cooks for you, and the meals are mouth-wateringly delectable. 

Twilight teaches you how to hunt, fish, and farm. 

You help them in your own ways, a salve to their traumatic wounds. 

It's perfect.

The bodies make stack up when you are not looking. Throats may be slit and partners threatened to fuck off before they end up the same way. But still, they keep their natures nuturingly passive around you.

"You're safe." Two words they both often say to you and each other. 

"We'll protect you." Three words that both promise to you.

"Never will we separate." Four words they urge to end in an unspoken promise.

"You are our hero, darlin'." Five words, confirmation of your importance to them (and only them).

They ask for nothing more than your companionship. They just want a friend that is theirs and only theirs.

[hirokari]

cherry flavored slushie

wc: 0.8k | g: friends to more, fluff, high school!au | w: none!

Lu Guang never pegged you to be a person to show up to basketball games. He supposed you showed up for Xiaoshi, though you sit oddly far from the game, leaning on the net outside the court, sipping on the typical slushie you tend to buy after school.

Wordless, Lu Guang leans against the wired net next to you, looking your way, though you don't take your eyes off the game.

"I didn't know you liked basketball," He says. "I don't," You answer, handing the boy your slushie. He takes it and sips on the straw, imagining your lips tasting of this cherry flavor. Finally, you look at him, "Why don't you play? You're tall and pretty good at it," 

"You've seen me play?"

"Yeah, dude. Were you so immersed in playing to notice me?"

He guesses he was- which is a surprise. It takes a lot to get Lu Guang’s eyes off of you. He responds with a shrug, tilting and tapping the straw against your lips. You comply and look back at the game as you let the cherry flavoring dye your tongue a hot, bright red.

"Why are you watching if you don't like basketball?" He can't help but ask. He thinks it's a stupid question. You answer, though, unbothered, "Because I know the rules. And I know this referee is incredibly blind. I'm out here so I don't strangle him with my bare hands."

He can’t help but let out a light chuckle, one that feels innocent and pegs a smile out of you too, but it also ignites a sharp feeling in your stomach. “They don’t seem to play fair, but I believe Xiaoshi is decent enough to overcome said blindness.”

Your worn out converse nudges his knee as you sit back against the wired fence and you give him a teasing smile, “Finally giving him credits, Guang?” With his cheeks dusted pink, his eyes avert away in a shy manner as he mumbles gruffly through a frown, “No.”

And it’s your turn to laugh, though yours is much more bubbly than his, and he likes to hear your voice more than his own. The fuzzy feeling that washes over him merely from your voice and its tone; the wide smile you give him and the crinkle at the end of your eyes; your fingers that ignite tingles when they graze over his shoulder; frankly everything about you makes him go crazy, as hard as it is for him to admit.

Your tongue is painted a hot red from the cherry flavored slushie that you’d just finished, and he supposes his is a little dyed as well. But it makes you all the more kissable. Your lips are also stained– but they’re much lighter.

“You like sweet junk?” You ask, leaning forward to sip from the slushie that he holds in his hand. He watches as you drink the cold treat, your eyes still skimming across the court, carefully analyzing each player. “Truthfully: no.”

“You tried it out, though?”

“I know you like this junk,” He says. “So I went for it.”

Oh. Your cheeks flare, attention abandoning the game almost completely to look at the white-haired boy. “But you’re still drinking it.”

“I don’t mistrust you and your taste,” Says Lu Guang, sending you a boyish smile. Who’d have known the stoic boy could ignite such feelings in you, your chest tightening in hope and your stomach, twisting. You watch as he smacks his lips open and close; as if playing around with the residue taste that the slushie had left in his mouth.

“Doesn’t taste the best.”

“No?”

“Not from a cheap foam cup, no,”

“Hm? Where would it taste the best from, then?”

There’s a moment of silence. The grass you both sit on rustles when Lu Guang shifts and leans forward, but it comes to a halt. So does the thump in your chest. It freezes– you freeze. His nose brushes against yours and for a moment you think he’s teasing. 

Lu Guang, the often emotionless and objective robot of a human, is in fact teasing you by brushing his nose against yours. And you think you love it as much as you hate it. His breath is hot when it fans against your skin and it makes your skin ignite with goosebumps. Your eyes grow half-lidded, charmed by both the anticipation and frustration he leaves you in.

A loud clattering noise emits from the court. Instinctively, you turn your head to watch as Xiaoshi scores a point. Lu Guang, seemingly growing a little jealous, plants his fingers against the base of your jaw and leads your attention back to him.

“Wh-”

Lu Guang doesn’t give you time to breathe or respond, lips pressing against yours in a chaste kiss. And you think he’s right, as always. This cherry flavored slushie tastes way better from his lips compared to the foam cup (that is now tipped over and abandoned next to Lu Guang’s side). You always imagined his lips would have tasted sweet, but nothing like this.

You imagined he’d taste sweet of citrus and warm like a summer breeze. Though, you don’t think you want to complain right now. Cold cherry lips are all the same, as long as they’re Lu Guang’s.

a/n: experimenting with the idea of straightforward n flirty lu guang hehehe

©️ hirokari, 2024

[writing-oof]

Draft Drabbles (silly) from the Pronouns Chain Fic

"Pronouns?" Twilight asks, Twilight's brows furrowed and expression pinched. "Uhm...no thanks."

"What?" Legend asks flatly, a distinct line of tension running through hir.

"It's just--I'd rather not, you know?" Twilight explains.

"You'd rather not…have pronouns?"

Wild whoops from its perch in the tree. "Based."

"What does that even mean?" Four mutters under his breath, and Time pats him on the shoulder consolingly.

Twilight just nods sagely at Wild. "I do try."

[c0smoshit]

do you do hurt/comfort??? cause if you do id like to request a time x gn!reader, like they have an argument then they make up after cooling off from it

Of course I do honey!!

Two Zelda requests in a row, you guys are pretty needy for Link lately 🫡🫡 (I'm kidding I love thinking about these lil scenarios too)

Thanks for the request and I hope I wrote what you were looking for🫶🫶

Warmth ࣪.⋆ ♡

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘 ≫ Time/gn!reader

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 ≫ fluff and angst

⋆ ࣪. ℙ𝕝𝕠𝕥 ≫ Link isn't home as often as before and you're starting to miss him so much

⋆ ࣪. 𝔸/ℕ ≫ I love love love angsty time 🤧

⋆ ࣪. 𝕎𝕠𝕣𝕕𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥 ≫ 823

How could you even begin describing your day?

It had already started bad, waking up with that unpleasant coldness by your side that was starting to get familiar. He wasn't home and the sun was already setting as you looked through the window on your shared bedroom.

You tried to take your mind off it's loop by doing chores; simply taking walks, cooking... since it was sunday and you didn't have to do anything more than relax. On normal days though, it was a different story, you didn't have much time to overthink.

However, you were starting to lose it.

Coming home late, barely even stepping inside, no more bedtime kisses since you were already fast asleep.

Those were only the few things that had been haunting your mind for long lasting weeks.

. . .

Lukewarm water cascading down your body you pressed your fingers into your skin, rubbing off all the accumulated dirt from the day even though you weren't much dirty either way.

Silence filling the room, you could have listened to your own heartbeat if there wasn't any water constantly hitting the shower floor. Smelling the clean aroma you wiped the frown you had been wearing all day for once, finally being able to clear your mind even if it was for a little while.

Stepping out with soaked feet you wrapped yourself in a towel, doing your usual after-shower routine before you noticed that you hadn't brought any spare clothes with you. Silently cussing yourself you opened the door, goosebumps rising over your bare arms and shoulders as you weren't surrounded by a humid and warm ambience.

What you ceirtantly didn't expect was to see a glimpse of what seemed like a stranger standing on the kitchen. Feeling your heart stop for a second you screamed from pure fear, tripping over your feet as you fell right on your butt thanks to the slippery floor.

The next thing you saw- well, felt, was somebody's arms picking you up, baby blue eyes checking up on you.

Oh, so he was home, early?

"Wha- Link, you're home"

You said regaining your breath, supporting yourself by grabbing his arms you looked into his face.

"Pretty... early"

You said and he could sense something was off with your tone, with how you would look at him. Almost, dissapointed...

It was clear that you were upset, you had been looking at him that way for the past week. And now that he was able to watch your pretty face again, it was all pouty.

However, before he could even give you a hug you had already squirmed off his grasp, going into the room.

. . .

"What's wrong?"

His arms had wrapped around your waist, pressing your hips into the counter as he watched you cooking something, you could feel his frame behind you, enveloping you with love but there was something else you missed too.

Warmth

Warmth he still haven't gotten the time to envelope you with, to warm your insides with such a delicious burning flame.

"Is just that-"

You sighed, placing your hands on the table as you stopped your ministrations, trying to find the right words.

"Forget it, I'd feel dumb"

He frowned at your words, turning you around only to see you looking to the wall beside you both. Caressing your cheek he softly pushed your face in his direction.

"Talk to me, please"

He spurred you on and you finally looked into his eyes.

"You aren't home anymore Link, I- I cook for myself, I bathe alone, I don't even sleep with you anymore!"

Oh...

"I just miss you"

Tears had began to stream down your face and he was starting to panick, drowning deeper and deeper into the black pit inside his stomach the more hiccups and sniffles he heard.

"I'm so sorry princess"

He craddled you in his arms, keeping your head on his neck as he felt tears tickling the skin there.

He felt so guilty

Guilty of leaving you here, alone, without any explanations for weeks, coming home with his cold dinner on the table, the sound of soft snores by the end of the kitchen while he took off his gear, without any kind hands helping him out.

Of course you had all the rights to suspect too, but he really was on duty, he wouldn't, in a million years, leave you for someone else.

. . .

Laying on the bed as he had laid down with you, still holding you in a bridal style as he had walked down with you to the room. You had your pretty eyes closed, eyelashes fluttering as your cheek rested on his shoulder, your arms had finally hugged him back, resting peacefully around his neck.

"How about I sleep till noon with you?"

At his words your ears perked up, looking up at him only to see his features soften once he had found your eyes again.

"I'm sure Zelda will understand I'm not her only knight"

He smiled at your own grin, looking at him with puffy eyes as you chuckled, forgetting for a moment how upset you were with him.

"I'm yours too"

[breannasfluff]

For the prompt list: maybe “hair care” with Wild and Warriors?

“Wild! Get back here!” Warriors chases the errant hero, waving a brush. “You’ve got half a bush in your hair and I’m pretty sure I saw a bug in there!”

Laughing, Wild swings himself up into a tree. “I’m going for a rugged look.”

“You're going for a rats nest if you keep this up. Do you want Twi to cut out tangles with a dagger?”

Wild heaves a sigh, but drops out of the tree. “Fine, get it over with then.”

Warriors squints at him, but sits down behind him and starts untangling the mess. “You have an actual stick in here.”

“I was saving it for later.”

The hero doesn’t respond, just flips away leaves. The sound of crickets fill the air and, far away, comes Wind’s laughter with the others.”

“You know,” Warriors says, softer, “you could cut your hair if it bothers you.”

Wild shakes his head, causing the hair to tug. “My hair was shorter in my memories. I like it long like this. It’s mine.”

The brush against his head doesn’t yank as expected. Warriors goes slow, working from the ends up and holding it so it doesn’t rip. His hair is naturally silky, at least, letting go of the tangles quickly.

Soon it’s a smooth brush from scalp to ends and Wild closes his eyes, relaxing into the feeling. “Thanks, Wars.”

“Any time, my friend.”

[mmelete]

(Long Text Post under Cut!!)

Wild was asleep. 

How is that possible?

By the fire, many nights ago, Wild told all of them his story, his life, all that he remembered. The atmosphere ended..somberly, to say the least. Despite all Wild’s jokes and light-hearted comments, his story was a tragedy. 

The champion knew nothing but adventure, a calling from the goddesses, and the guilt and grief of an entire fallen world upon his shoulders. And his memories, Wild explained, were mostly Flora’s memories: brief moments of their time spent before the Calamity. Mostly about their shared time, prepping for a war against forces larger than any 17 year old should face.

Regardless, 18 memories weren’t enough to define a hero. Much less a person. 

Twilight sighed, rolling over on his mat. The champion made a small noise, shifting to follow him and clinging to the rancher’s chest. Wild smelled distantly like the faint scent of freshly cut grass and smoke. 

Wild always kept his hair long. Did he not like it short? Or was his long hair part of the only identity he knew?

It wasn’t right. Twilight internally kicked himself. He shouldn’t be thinking about these questions. He’d never dare ask the champion aloud, it would come across too rude and disrespectful, no matter how many ways Twilight worded it. 

Wild slept for 100 years. How is he still tired? How can he still sleep?

Twilight supposed it was for the better that the champion wasn’t cursed to stay awake. 100 years was nearly impossible to live. The fact that Wild was alive, with little to no pain and zero lingering effects after literally dying and being immobile for a century…

…He’s a walking miracle. And lucky. 

Half the members of the chain regularly woke up with aching bones and joints, calloused hands and flare-ups caused by injuries far worse than the champion’s. 

Twilight was wrong for wondering. He was grateful that his brother, after death and amnesia, who only survived by science (perhaps magic) could live like a regular person. His eyes were an odd sort of color, just a few shades too bright, but even that was ignorable. His scars were extreme, sure, but a body who cheated death can’t escape from evidence of the grave. 

Wild’s extensive scars caused him no pain, thank Ordona. Didn’t pull on his skin, didn’t ache with the weather or pull in the heat. Lucky.

Wild mumbled something incomprehensible, face serene and still as he breathed deep and easy. He was alive. By chance, by fate or science or….or something, he was alive. 

In fact, just like this, with the dim light and closed eyes, he looked no different than a regular guy. Nobody would ever guess what his body or his mind had ever gone through.

That’s a good thing. Twilight scowled at himself. Stop overthinking!

Wild lived up to his name, but from the evil of Twilight's curiosity, the rancher wondered if Wild’s past-self was just as chaotic. How much of Wild was different from ‘Before’? 

The questions were driving him mad. Had Wild sat wondering for hours and hours about what part of his mind really stayed with the grave? What changed, over a century? What did he miss? What had he forgotten? 

Hell, Twilight’s only been on this journey for three months, and he couldn’t imagine a time without Legend and Warrior’s snarky banter. The soft shkkk-shkk-shkk of Sky’s carving. Four’s loud laughter. Wind’s sad puppy eyes. Hyrule’s crooked smile. And…

And Time, the Hero’s Shade in the flesh, as a living person. As not just a hero, but a man. With feelings and a personality, who cracked the occasional dad-pun and said cryptic crap for shits and giggles.

I can’t imagine forgetting them...  

Who was Wild’s family? Who was his best friend? Did he have any cousins? Did he have a least favorite food? Did he have a favorite childhood book series growing up? 

And smaller things, like did he have a favorite color? Did he collect rocks in his pockets as a toddler? Did Wild get to stand on a tiny stool, yearning to see what his mother was cooking for dinner and beg to help?

In the beginning, once their coworker relationship turned into brothers-in-arms, Warriors demanded an immediate hair-care check up. 

“It’s high time you all get a proper trim,” Warriors explained, holding up a pair of scissors. Twilight grabbed Legend and Hyrule by their tunics, making sure they didn’t run off. Feral gremlins. 

“Who’d like to go first?” Warriors continued. “You may either volunteer, or you’ll be selected at random.”

“I’ll go,” Wild spoke up quietly. He plopped onto the tree stump, twiddling his thumbs at the sudden attention on him. “What?”

“I didn’t expect you to volunteer,” Warriors said, surprised. “How much do you want cut?”

“You said a trim!” Wild exclaimed, leaping from his seat and holding his hair defensively, a frantic glint in his eyes.

“If you’d like a trim, then that’s all I’ll do,” Warriors reassured him. “I promise. You want this much off? It’s simply for healthier hair growth, I swear.”

“...Alright then,” Wild nodded. “But if you mess up, I’m dyeing your scarf the ugliest mustard yellow I can find.”

“Ah.” Warriors grimaced. “Well, I better make this perfect, then.”

From where Legend and Hyrule were attempting to wriggle out of twilight’s grasp, the veteran called out, “Hey Wars! Give ‘im a buzz cut!”

Wild stiffened and scooted a bit further away, visibly wary. Warriors scowled, propping a hand on his hip. 

“Legend!” Warriors scoffed. “Stop it. You’re next, by the way. How would you like a buzz-cut? I bet you’d look amazing bald…ha.”

Legend shrugged. “It’s hair. It’ll grow again. Wild’s got too much of it anyways. Trust me, champ. Once you cut it short, you’ll never go back.” He paused. “An undercut is also pretty nice...”

“You got an undercut?” Hyrule questioned, eyes widening like little moons.

Legend’s cheeks dusted pink. “Uh…it was for a quest. Not a big deal.”

“But an undercut?” Hyrule giggled. “A messy undercut with your bangs and unbrushed hair? I wouldn’t be surprised if Ganon died just by looking at your hideous hairstyle!”

That made enough people laugh (mostly to make the veteran more embarrassed, because that was always funnier) and turn their gaze away from Wild, letting the champion relax. 

Warriors snipped at Wild’s ends, and he was done within moments. “I’m only curious, but why do you keep your hair so long? You don’t have to answer, if you wish.”

“I…I like it,” Wild said quietly. He didn’t say anything for the rest of the trim, and once the captain finished, he stalked over to the fire, sorting through his Slate to make lunch.

At the time, Twilight didn’t think anything of it. He’d been too busy focusing on not letting Hyrule escape back into the woods. But now…now….

Does Wild like his hair, or is it all he’s ever known?

Memory and amnesia problems…scared him. Twilight had comforted Wild after a handful of ‘flashbacks’, traces when he’d get lost in memories that weren’t quite his. Honestly, it sounded terrifying. That might be the curse of escaping death. Haunting memories without any context. 

What if Wild remembered his family, but only from an argument? That was…that would be horrible. 

Twilight would cry if he lost his own memories and only remembered the worst fight he got in with Time. 

What if he only remembered Legend on his bad days? Or when Four was so, so quiet, quieter than a mouse? Or when Warriors was triggered by something and compensated by putting on a larger-than-life, annoying captain persona? Or when Sky would be so enraged, unable to process the emotions built up inside him for years without an escape? Or when Hyrule would break down, somber at the wealth in everyone else’s era and not his own? Or when poor Wind would wake up sobbing into his pillow because he dreamt of his only sister being killed? 

And Time, who would silently stare at the moon with the eyes of a thousand souls and grieve.

“Twilight,” Four murmured, startling the rancher out of his spiral. “Hey. You’re up for third watch.”

“Yup,” Twilight slurred, gently untangling himself with Wild and easing himself into a sitting position. “Th’nks, smithy. ‘Night.”

“Goodnight,” Four murmured, returning to his bedroll. 

Twilight sighed, forcing himself onto his feet. Habitually, he reached for his shadow crystal, letting the shadows consume his body and change it into his wolf form. 

The transformation didn’t hurt anymore. Or maybe Twilight forgot about the pain. 

Perhaps the rancher was a coward. What would Twilight do if he forgot anybody from Ordon? Colin, Rusl, the village kids…and he’d never forgive himself if they remembered him, but he didn’t know them in return. 

Maybe being asleep for 100 years was a horrible blessing in disguise. Wild had no current reminders. He was a whole new person. Or maybe he wasn’t. Nobody really understood, not even the champion himself. It was irrelevant now. 

Wild was a hero. A chaotic hero who enjoyed gossip a little too much but with a heart of gold. If Wild kept his tunic on with his hair down (to cover his slightly lopsided ear) nobody could see his scars. Nobody would know. 

And if Wild didn’t have his scars, and didn’t have people constantly telling him that he needed to save the kingdom….would Wild even know he was made to be a hero, in another life? 

…Or would he have chosen a different path?

[bokettochild]

When Four Turns Minish

When Four first shrank himself in front of the rest of the chain, the reactions were exactly what one would think. It was mostly "you're so cute" and "you can get smaller?" and various things like that as most, if not all of them, tried to touch the very tiny person.

They're Links, they're naturally curious idiots.

Except, being so much smaller, that many hands reaching out and that many people forgetting that he was still the Hero, still a capable person even if he was now smaller, was extremely off-putting and frustrating.

To Four's surprise though, his savior in this situation would be none other than Legend, who batted everyone off and then crouched down to be level with him and asked the real questions. "Can you protect yourself like this?"

Of course! His sword shrunk with him and it's still dangerously sharp and strong, even if it is on a smaller scale, so yes, he can defend himself. He appreciates the concern though, and the fact that Legend seems particularly serious about his safety, not just mocking his new lack of size.

And then Legend lowers a hand, not on top of him, not to grab him, but in front of him and asks if they can talk more away from the others and their grabby hands. Four agrees.

He's curious of course, why is Legend acting like this? The vet's answer? "I've been in similar predicaments myself, grabby hands and cooing is annoying. Smaller I may be, but I'd still like to maintain my dignity." Four 100% agrees.

Four happily climbs up into Legend's hand, even more pleased when it doesn't close around him, and let's himself be taken over back to the rest of camp.

From that point on, when tiny, Four likes perching on the vet. Legend respects is wish not to be treated like a pet or a baby, and seems particularly respectful like this.

He does want to know how small the vet can get though, and how.

[hyruleanhistorian]

The Dungeon Crawler

Legend was not unfamiliar with the sensation that washed over him as the distance between the floor and his face became much shorter.

What he was unfamiliar with was suddenly being in the air, Warriors having scooped him up.

The rest of the group shielded the pair as they backtracked out of the dungeon they had been traversing.

“Does anyone know what hit him?” Time queried as he examined Legend from where he was standing a short distance away.

Hyrule, who had been Legend’s buddy for this venture, sheepishly ran his hand through his hair. “No, I was trying to help Wars and Wild figure out their puzzle.”

Time sighed. “Did anybody else notice anything?”

He was answered by a chorus of negatives.

Wind peeked over Wars’ arm. “How long do you think this will last?”

“If it isn’t permanent.” Came Sky’s mutter, quiet but still loud enough for Legend to pick up.

Four’s face held a considering expression. “Maybe there’s an item one of us has that can undo it?”

Wars looked down at Legend. “Do you know, buddy?”

Normally, 8 minutes, but Legend had never left the area before he’d changed back.

Legend did his best to hold up eight fingers, but that was easier said than done.

“Vet - Link, can you understand me?”

Legend nodded curtly, which he was sure looked out of place in this form.

“Well that’s something.” Wild commented. “What do you think we should do then, Vet?”

Legend gestured back towards the entrance.

“You want us to go back in?”

Twilight hummed. “Maybe we gotta defeat whatever did this to ‘im.”

Legend did his best to shrug, but he wasn’t sure if the motion came across correctly.

After an unnecessarily long debate in Legend’s opinion, they agreed to try, and to bring Legend in there with them.

Wars would continue to carry him, Twilight, Sky, and Hyrule would guard them, and Four, Wind, Wild, and Time would take out the monsters.

It took a while, with the heroes being more cautious than usual, but eventually they managed to take out the last monster, a blue stalfos.

Legend quickly tried to wiggle out of Wars’ hold once he had regained his normal stature.

“Let go of me!”

Warriors complied, a smirk on his face.

“You know, you were a lot cuter as a baby.”

[legendofzoodles]

LU September art things I noticed:

Main archer Wild getting the focus he deserves. Oh, and flexing on us mortals by preparing to dish out three arrows

Nice detail of all the lefties holding their bows one way, while right handed Sky and Wild hold it the other

Some like Hyrule hold their bow with a fist, others like Legend stick out a finger. To help with checking the trajectory?

I love that Time, Warriors, Twilight and Wild's bows look kinda similar

What enemy could prompt such an assault? Look at their faces!

Except Sky; I've never seen him look so calm and almost smug. Might this be an enemy from his world he knows how to deal with...?

I think either Time or Sky would make the call on when to let the arrows loose: "Ready? Aim! FIRE!"

[junrenjun]

Pretty

kim jungwoo x monitor engineer!reader (gender neutral)

Jungwoo is frustrated. And his stage manager's annoying voice isn’t helping either. “Jungwoo I said we were going full out. Why are you lip syncing?” Like he would even purposefully be lip syncing right now.

Taeyong, as always, defends him before he can do it himself. “His mic isn’t working sir.” 

The annoyance rolls off their stage manager in waves. “Alright. Y/N can you fix his mic please?” 

He sees you enter the stage from the corner of his eye and oh god, he can already hear Johnny’s taunting. “Don’t cream your pants, Woo.” Why couldn’t someone else be the monitor engineer today? 

Ever the professional, you step up to him and ask, “pack?” He hands you the mic pack with trembling hands. You sit there and inspect it, tweaking the wires and messing with the jacks. Every once in a while, you ask him to test the mic and he dutifully does so. It has yet to work. 

You hum once in discontent. “We’re going to have to take this off.” Without warning, you shove the hand with the pack up his shirt, the other reaching down from the neckline. Now, it really shouldn’t bother Jungwoo. This is a daily occurrence at this point. Monitor engineers, managers, teammates, and even stylists have threaded his mic pack for him. But the fact that it’s you has him blushing.

It must be obvious, because he can hear Haechan’s evil giggle along with some mumbling from what sounds like Mark and Yuta. He really hopes you aren’t paying attention to them. Or him, if he’s being honest. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat shakes him from his stupor. He looks down to see you sticking out your hand, gesturing for something. A blush paints your cheeks as well. You must have heard his group mates. “Can I have your headset please?” you ask, slightly more timid than normal. 

He hands you the item, finding that you’ve already disconnected it and his IEMs from the pack. You take it gingerly and turn on your heel, mumbling something about following you. He doesn’t register the words at first, feet still rooted to the ground. You notice the delay, looking over your shoulder and raising your eyebrows at him. “Cute,” he thinks to himself before finally following. 

Though one of his IEMs is in, he can still hear Haechan’s remark from the other side of the stage. “Be back quick lovebirds!” He looks down to see you wide-eyed, color heavily creeping up your neck. Though your embarrassment is nothing compared to the absolute mortification he feels right now.

Once finally away from everyone else and tucked into your little corner of backstage, he talks. “Sorry about them.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” you wave him off. “It was just a little joke.”

Those six words broke his heart right then and there. “Yeah,” he laughs awkwardly. “Just a little joke.” 

He must be absolutely shit at lying because you instantly turn to look at him suspiciously. “Jungwoo,” you say pointedly. “Is there a reason they called us lovebirds?”

His heart drops to his stomach. The look on his face betrays him. “Jungwoo…” you say once more. 

“Okay, okay!” he concedes. “I may or may not have admitted that you were the prettiest staff member when I was really drunk one night.” 

You hum. “Okay, and are your drunk words also sober thoughts?” 

He looks at you, stunned. His mouth hangs open and he’s sure the image is reminiscent of a fish. You simply laugh and turn back toward your work station. “I’m just kidding with you. But I am very flattered, so thank you.” 

You continue to tinker with his mic for a few minutes. He’s left to linger behind you and overthink that entire conversation. While you didn’t directly turn him down, you did very much brush off the “pretty” comment. Oh, Jungwoo is so fucked. Not only did you find out his little secret, but you basically think it’s all a joke. This is going to haunt him forever. 

Before he can wallow in pity any longer, you test the mic. The sound of your voice reverberates across the stadium and you cheer in success. Without any other words, you hand it back to Jungwoo. He rests the headset back on his ears, while you connect the wires to the pack. This time, he holds his breath as you pull on the neck of his shirt. 

Though it seems you have other plans for him. Your other hand snakes up under the hem and you trail your fingertips lightly over his lower stomach. He gasps suddenly. You slowly drag them across his body and up his back. Moving at a torturously slow pace, you lean up to whisper in his ear. “I think you’re pretty too, Woo.” 

Finally, you grab the pack from your other hand at the top of his shirt, bringing it down to secure at the waist. You’re just about to pull away when Yuta’s voice rings out from above. “Hey lovebirds! If you’re going to flirt, turn the mic off next time!” 

Jungwoo is redder than a cherry when he finally makes his way back on stage.

[yandereunsolved]

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 Yandere Wild 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

"Sometimes I feel like I'm talking to a wall. Not that I mind. I just wish that I could understand what goes on in your mind sometimes."

Wild staring unblinkingly at Reader.

Wild's thoughts: I have the best travel companion. They're so eretheral. It is like Hylia blessed me after a hundred years. It almost makes the entire thing worth it. I would fight Ganon for all of eternity just to see them smile. To feel them touch my wounds and scold me. To feel their skin against mine while we are laying underneath the stars. To see their smile. To see their blush. To save them. To see them sing, or dance, or cook. To just see them exist is enough for my heart to swell.

"Truly an enigmatic soldier. Few words spoken— only action."

Wild's thoughts: Goddesses, their voice is sweeter than any honey. I would kill for them. I would die for them. I would kidnap them if Ganon ever rose again. I would kidnap them in a heart beat. I could kidnap them...

"Hey, Wild. Dinner's ready. You better get some before Twlight runs off with the cauldron in his wolf form again."

Wild's thoughts: Dinner. Dinner? DINNER! MY FAVORITE! I want to slaughter their worst enemy and put their head on a stick for them. Truly, it wasn't Hylia, the Champions, the Chain, nor even Zelda who kept me safe and alive during this journey... it was you.

[fortune-maiden]

Feveruary Day 18: Delirious

I was waiting to share this one :3

double drabble again :D

“We need a new hiding place,” Lu Guang tells him urgently, in a voice barely above a whisper. “The notebook can’t stay here. If they find it…” “They won’t,” Cheng Xiaoshi promises, pretending not to notice the nails digging into his wrist. “Didn’t I tell you I’m the master of hide and seek? They’ll need to overturn all of China before they find it. Leave everything to me.” Lu Guang nods. He lets Cheng Xiaoshi brush away the bangs in his eyes, and lies back down onto the lower bunk, whispering more reminders. Only when he’s asleep does his grip on Cheng Xiaoshi’s wrist slacken, allowing the latter to go handle his promised task. Cheng Xiaoshi shakes his head as he fixes the blanket and soaks the washcloth anew. Gently, he wipes down Lu Guang’s flushed face, hoping that something between this and the antibiotics bring down his friend’s fever soon. He slips away eventually, exhaustion and worry hanging over him like a thick coat. When he checks his phone, he finds a new message from Qiao Ling. How’s he doing? The text reads. Bad. Cheng Xiaoshi writes back truthfully. He’s completely out of it. Keeps worrying about some notebook.

[writing-oof]

Cut Snippet I Think is Funny (Ravio/Legend SciFi AU Number 3)

---

"You look like me."

Ravio nods. "I always have."

Legend frowns. It's more pensive than upset. "Always?"

"Yes."

"How long is always?"

Ravio considers this. "A year? Two, maybe?"

"That doesn't math," Legend says flatly, "You're telling me I've been fighting SHADOW with a toddler?"

Ravio snorts. "I am older than the concept of time," he says truthfully, "But for as long as I have looked, I have looked like you."

Legend raises a brow. "Why me?"

Ravio shrugs. "Hot."

---