#still kinda mad they included skull kid in legends but did NOT involve him and youg link in ANY capacity

[randomwriteronline]

“Where is that kid.”

“What kid?”

“That kid. You know-- that one. The repulsive one. With the mask. They’ve been out there on the battlefield for too much time now. If he’s dead we’ll have to collect the pieces of that damned wooden body.”

“Ah.”

Zant peers into a small globe - only contribution Vaati was willing to make to the team (thrown at them through a space-time portal accompanied by a very clear “I’m not getting stabbed by some green bastard for the fourth time, get out of my house”) - and gazes into it for a few minutes.

“If you could figure that puppet’s location out before next month it would be most convenient,” Ghirahim sneers.

“Shut up. It’s searching.”

“It’s being awfully slow in your hands. Give it to me.”

“I said shut up. It’s working just fine. Here, I can see the mask.”

“And?”

“... I can’t see the kid.”

“What.”

“The kid. The one wearing it. I can’t see him.”

“What does that mean.”

“That the kid is not attached to it. I can’t see them.”

The demon lord snatches the globe from the usurper and looks into it himself, since clearly he either can’t make it function correctly, has gone partially blind, or is too stupid to recognize a wooden child behind a mask.

Hm.

Alright.

So the mask is indeed there.

‘There’, however, is face down on some rocky terrain of sorts.

So distinctly not on the would-be-face of that pest.

“I told you,” Zant nags him.

“Shut your mouth.” Ghirahim hisses back. “You should have just asked it where the blasted menace of a puppet is instead of wasting precious time.”

“You can do that yourself.”

“Not when the thing is in your useless hands I can’t!”

“It’s in yours now.”

“It wasn’t before!”

“Now it is. Get to it.”

“If you value your tongue you best never speak to me like that again.”

The Twili bows deeply, twisting his body in a wild disgusting way.

“Oh, Demon Lord! Prized sword of my master!” he caws out, “Please, find the kid whose absence so vexes you at once!”

The Sword Spirit glares literal daggers at him, but says nothing. The blades are already bothering him by anchoring his gaudishly large clothes to the floor anyways, so he can consider his revenge executed.

Alright, look for the damned child.

The image forms a little too slow for his tastes, but at least form it does.

In roughly five seconds he wishes it had not formed.

Zant peers into the crystal curiously after managing to pull the various throwing knives out of his pants and sleeves.

He stares at it for a good minute, all will to bicker dying out completely as they both attempt to decode the image in the clear orb and either briefly fail or ruefully begin to accept the reality of the situation.

“Disgusting,” Ghirahim decretes.

Sure he’s a sadist who enjoys playing with his prey before properly gifting them the worst most painfully excruciating death he can offer them, but he has to draw the line somewhere. And he’s going to get that line and draw it right at abandoning both a perfectly good bloodied battlefield and the source of ancient horrendous power you’re meant to employ whilst fighting to instead repeatedly kiss your supposed nemesis on the mouth between giggles while laying face down on top of them kicking your feet like some kind of lovestruck youngster (which regrettably both marionette menace and green-clad pest are).

“What are they doing?” the Twili asks, seriously at a loss.

“I think this is meant to be a ‘date’ for them.”

“... I was under the impression they were enemies.”

“So was I.”

“Willing to kill each other, even.”

“Indeed.”

From the globe they see Skull Kid smack his beak back on the young Hero of Time’s lips again, causing a little laugh to come from them with a blush.

“This is horrid.”

“Absolutely grotesque.”

“What would be so repulsive to make you comment on it in such a way?”

Both freeze.

Ganondorf looks down into the small globe from well above both their heads, brows furrowed in an expression that’s annoyed, tired, and so not up for any crap that is not in any way related to him overwhelming hyrulean forces and finally getting what he damn well deserves.

He stares for a few seconds, just enough.

The sigh that leaves him is so deep and exhausted.

He waves a hand in the air with a harsh motion that says ‘whatever’ and just walks away.

-

“We should take a nap I think. The weather’s nice.”

“Won’t you get in trouble if you’re late?”

“They can’t hurt me in a way that matters. And they can see where I am and what I’m doing whenever they want anyways.”

“That’s not a very good thing.”

“Yes it is.”

“How?”

Skull Kid grins mischievously: “They think kissing is so gross.”

The Hero of Time looks at him intrigued: “Do they?”

His friend nods.

He kisses them right on the beak; the imp kicks their feet in the air with a gleeful cackle and kisses him back.