#zaiah writes

[biblicallyinaccuratespoons]

everyone say hi to Beans!

This is my Twili son , and i love him so much

(Traditional art of him below my ramblings)

Frulle of @linked-maze has wonderfully answered all my dumb questions, and thanks to them, my twili's name is Beans!!

also i'm sorry about the firefly, i just think it's neat and that he would like it! also the markings are strange but i love them

He's a farmer, and he mainly grows twili-wheat and takes care of "Vesper" the twili-cows!! he does grow other things, but that is what he mainly does.

he originally was quite thin from when he was first getting his farm up and running. he was quite poor and only had two Vesper and a couple wild wheat seeds to his name, and not much to eat. he foraged for a while until his Vesper started producing milk and he could make cheese and had good harvests and could make bread, he started getting tubby. he's pretty proud of how he looks, since it shows other twilis that the food he grows is good! he's made enough money to buy a small house instead of the little hut he started off with!!

i may give him a partner later on (but i feel like my gf will laugh too hard at the red haired love interest for him) (long story, inside joke, only mentioned for if they see this)

apologies for the weird blobs covering my fingers lmao

I LOVE HIM SO MUCH YOUR HONOUR

[shattered-reflections-au]

Red's Backstory is now up on AO3!!

Red seeks refuge after getting kicked out of her house.

tw for transphobia, mild disassociation, and underage weed usage. if you have an AO3 account go and read it on AO3! if not the fic is under the cut!

When Scarlet woke up, she was told to get up, get packed, so she could leave.

It didn’t take her long to realize that it wasn’t for a party.

It was the day after her eighteenth birthday, and immediately she knew there was no way that today was going to be good.

By 8:30am she was out on the lawn, in the rain, with a few essentials in a suitcase, tears rolling down her face.

Kicked out.

Red walked down her street, away from the home she had known for years. Sure, her parents weren’t great per-say, but by Hylia, Red didn’t think that they would actually ever kick her out!

Red was almost on autopilot as he made his way to Vio’s house. Turn right at Oak drive, left at Kings road. Cross the street, try to not be hit by a car.

407 Westley Street, Red stopped dead in front of it.

The shitty wheels of the suitcase clacked along the wet concrete driveway, up the three steps, and then stopped. Red tried to pull herself together and stop himself from crying long enough to knock on the goddamn door.

Red’s knuckles tapped against the hard wooden door.

A very sleepy looking Vio answered the door.

“Red?” Vio asked, immediately reaching out for his cousin on instinct to catch the sobbing colour in his arms.

“Red, what happened?” Vio asked, getting no real answer other than incoherent sobs with words of Red’s mother and father.

Vio sighed, pulling red into his house and setting her -him- down on the couch, wrapping a throw blanket around his sobbing, wet cousin.

“Vio? What’s going on?” his mom called from the kitchen. Fast at work making her second coffee of the day, running barrelling down the hallway once she heard crying.

“What's with the suitcase?” Vio’s dad asked, coming around the corner, not fully aware of Red yet.

Red only cried louder, trying to muffle themselves with Vio’s shoulder to keep from waking the whole neighbourhood. No matter how hard anyone tried, they couldn’t get more than a few words out of Red. They were inconsolable.

After a few minutes, Red had cried themselves out, with nothing left but puffy eyes and an eerie numbness to them.

“Mum? Dad? Can I talk to you for a moment?” Vio asked, tipping his head to the side in a gesture to the kitchen.

Vio sighed as his dad leaned against the counter and his mom took a seat at the island.

“What's up, kiddo?” Vio’s dad prompted as Vio stole another glance towards the living room where Red currently sat.

“From what I’ve been able to gather, Auntie and Uncle Jones kicked Red out.” Vio said, wringing his hands as he spoke.

The kitchen went dead quiet.

“OH ELAINE DID NOT.” Vio’s mom screamed, shooting up and marching into the living room. “Elenor, wait-” Vio’s dad protested, though it was too late.

Vio rushed back into the living room after his mum, finding her having enveloped Red already in a deep hug with Red back to sobbing his heart out.

“Oh honey it’s okay-” she soothed, running a hand through Red’s un-brushed hair. Red whimpered, holding onto his aunt like a lifeline.

Arms still locked around Red, “Vio, dear, can you set up the guest room for your cousin, please?” Elenor asked.

Vio nodded wordlessly, rushing off and pulling Red’s suitcase with him.

Red stayed quiet, only after a few more minutes of hugs did he finally speak, and at that it was only bits and pieces.

“Mum… my things… home,” Red mumbled.

Elenor pulled away, looking Red in the eye. “What are you saying, sweetheart?”

Red sniffled, using the back of his hand to roughly wipe at the stream of tears still somehow falling. “My mom, all my stuff is still at home and- and I can’t get it-” Red sobs.

Elenor suddenly went silent and still.

“Like hell she’s gonna keep your stuff.” She said quietly, shooting up from the couch, and pulling on her slippers. She pulled her keys off the hook as she shrugged on her rain jacket.

“Red, sweetie, put on your shoes, we’re getting your things.” she mentioned. “VIOLET, HENRY, GET IN THE TRUCK WE’RE ABOUT TO FUCK AUNTIE OVER!!” She hollered, winking at Red before going out to her minivan.

Red sat on the couch in shock. Vio’s dad Henry ran past with a cardboard box full of shopping bags.

Vio walked back into the room, smiling at Red as he was left dazed and confused.

“C’mon. This will be fun,” Vio said, “and after this you’ll never need to see them again.” He pointed out.

— Red was silent on the car ride back to his home. He felt numb, and a cold shock went down his spine. This wasn’t his home anymore.

Everyone in the car was silent. Though, you could practically hear the anger radiate from Vio’s mom. Red was prepared to see all of his soggy things on the lawn, but there was nothing there.

Red felt like he was on autopilot as he stepped out of Vio’s mom’s van again. He trailed behind as Elenor marched up to what now used to be his front porch, not even bothering to ring the doorbell and just throwing the door open and stomping inside.

“ELAINE GET YOUR ASS OVER HERE.” Elenor screamed. Henry walked around the living room with a grocery bag, grabbing anything he could recognise as Red’s belongings.

Elenor started screaming at his mom, his mom screaming back even louder. Henry had gotten into an argument with Red’s dad, and Red was caught in the middle.

The world raged on and yet he was deaf to all the anger around him. His mom screamed about how much of a demon her daughter was, how horribly she had been treated by Scarlet.

Scarlet stood in the middle, absolutely numb.

Something tugged at her arm, not even registering Vio’s face, but feeling his warm and gentle touch, Scarlet let herself be dragged to her bedroom.

Scarlet’s room was a mess, having been hastily rummaged through for the essentials only two hours earlier.

Vio began to move around the room, packing clothes into boxes, clean or dirty. Scarlet stood in the middle of her room in shock, looking around at all the little things. The memories.

Chips in the paint from pulling tape off the walls. That one little slice of the doorway that never really got repainted, where pink still sticks through the otherwise gray walls. The glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, the marks of her height on the doorway.

The stain of grape juice on the carpet, the crayon scribbles on the door.

This was Scarlet’s room. This was Scarlet’s room.

And now her cousin was packing it up.

Scarlet sat down on her bed, taking up the unmade blankets in her fists.

So many nights were spent crying under these sheets. So many nightmares where she just stared up at the ceiling. So many hours daydreaming her chest away while lying on her back.

So much time. Now wiped clean.

Scarlet felt the mattress dip beside her.

“Are you doing okay?” Vio asked, Scarlet just stared straight ahead. “I didn’t think so,” he muttered, gently hooking an arm around Scarlet’s shoulder.

“I know this is a lot for you,” Vio sighed, “it’ll get better though, I know it.”

Scarlet stared ahead still.

“I know this is a lot, but could you help? You can like, handle your personal things…” Vio trailed off.

Scarlet tilted her head, cocking an eyebrow at Vio.

Vio raised his hands in defence. “I don’t wanna touch your underwear!!!” he explained.

Scarlet laughed and stood, grabbing a trash bag and pulling open her undergarment drawer and throwing things in by the fistfull. After a while of shoving things in bags, Vio’s dad Henry came upstairs, closing the door tight behind him. Closing out the sound of Elenor and Elaine in a screaming match together.

“Hey boys,” Henry started, “How's it going?”

Red almost smiled. The ghost of his mom’s voice screaming “Scarlet is not a boy” rang out through his ears.

Scarlet went back to what she was doing. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Vio signing something to his father.

“Okay, the ladies are arguing downstairs, so uh, I hope you didn’t hear any of that…” Henry explained. “But everything’s packed up downstairs. And if we need to go back, I know where you guys keep the spare key.” he winked.

Scarlet tied up another trash bag. Pushing it into a pile on the floor where Vio had put her clothes.

It took a matter of minutes to pack up the rest of Scarlet’s things once Elenor joined, being a bit violent with the blankets at first but soon calmed a bit once Henry intervened.

It was a bit of a game of Jenga to get everything into the back of the van. Red, Vio, and Henry needing to hold a bag on their lap to fit everything in.

Vio’s parents helped load all the bags into the guest bedroom, leaving Red and Vio to their own devices.

Red stood still, back again in what was now set to be his new home.

“Here,” Vio suggested, “I’ll give you something to wear, we’ll wash your stuff and then we can decide what to keep–if you want to throw anything away.”

Red nodded, and gladly took Vio’s spare hoodie, shedding his other layers and pulling on Vio’s lilac hoodie, the fabric changing to a soft rusty pink once it settled on Red’s body. Red pulled off his jeans and took the extra pair of grey sweatpants Vio offered.

Vio threw Red’s clothes in one of the other black trash bags and started to drag them down to the laundry room.

An obscene amount of laundry later, and Red found himself in a pile of warm clothes, fresh from the dryer.

Dinner had been eaten, and Red was left to his own devices to settle into his new home. He stared around the room, empty walls and two piles of “keep” and “donate” for clothes. The donate pile visibly overflowed with frilly dresses and lacey undergarments.

Red heard familiar footsteps thumping down the stairs.

Vio sighed, walking into their spare bedroom -now Red’s bedroom- and grabbing his shoulder.

“C’mon, let’s go relax.” Vio said with a smile. Red just nodded, shrugging on Vio’s sweater he was handed and following his cousin out.

Vio made a small side trip to his bedroom, pulling out a medium sized drawstring bag and a lighter.

Vio then led Red out to the balcony, pushing a chair against the wall and standing on it, pulling a rope ladder down.

Vio climbed it, up onto the roof.

Red just stared up.

“C’mon Scar, it’s safe, we’ve done this countless times.” Vio persuaded, watching Red nod and start to pull himself up the ladder.

Red settled himself down on the gentle slope of the roof, and Vio unpacked the little drawstring bag.

A small tin, Vio’s lighter, an ashtray, rolling papers.

Red just watched as Vio got to work, expertly tucking the dried cannabis into the papers, rolling it gently, and handing it to Red.

“You first,” Vio offers, Red shakes his head.

Vio shrugged and took it back “Alright.” He lit it, the flame from the lighter warming the colour of his face in the moonlight.

Vio inhaled deeply then let out the plume of smoke letting it hang in the air for a second before handing it to Red wordlessly.

Red took his turn, except choking on the smoke and coughing it out in a few loud hacks.

Vio chuckled. “Someone's a bit rusty in his technique,” He whispered, words already getting more lazy.

Red’s cheeks darkened his namesake colour, “It’s been a while,” he mumbled, “you know my mum hated it...” He trailed off.

Vio took his turn again. “Yeah, Elaine was a fucking bitch.” He slurred. “I’m glad you’re home now.”

Red sat still, not really understanding how to react. The blunt was passed back to him.

“Yeah, I guess I am home now,” he mumbled, “I like your family.” he mentioned, taking another draw of smoke, this time only choking at the very end.

“Our family.” Vio insists, blowing another puff of smoke again. “I mean, you always were family, but now you’re like “family plus” or something,” he added, giggling to himself. “Upgrades.”

Red smiled, laying back on the sloped roof, letting his high start to blur the edges of his mind. He remembered last time he was up here with Vio and a blunt he came home the next day from the sleepover and his mom sniffed the shadows of weed smoke off of him like an airport hound, grounding him for a month and forbidding him from going to Vio’s house when Vio’s parents weren’t home.

Red glanced over to the balcony they just climbed from, where Vio’s parents home-grow the weed Vio was currently trying to blow smoke rings from. Like they were gonna stop him.

Red let himself slip into a comfortable calm, letting the ghosts of his past drift from his mind for a moment. “Violet?” he called, not taking his gaze off the stars.

“Yeah?” Vio mumbled, his words smelling like smoke.

“I think I’m gonna like it here.” Red muttered.

[biblicallyinaccuratespoons]

yes! do this! i love talking about my fics!!! please ask me things!!

[zelda-a-new-age]

good afternoon we're having fun here

[ninawolv3rina]

To Die or To Die Fighting

Original D&D character (Zaiah), NPC backstory, 1500 words.

TW: Body horror, blood

I don’t want to, I don’t want to!

“You have to.”

Zaiah tightened his grip on the handle of the blade - his blade, now. It hadn’t been his mere moments ago. The still-warm blood dripping from the grip was a very present reminder of that.

He pressed his back against the rough wooden planks that made up the wall of the little house he’d taken shelter in. That move, too, he hadn’t made alone. But alone… well, that’s exactly what he was, now. His gaze stayed locked on his own hands, refusing to travel down to the ground, and the body that lay on it.

“You have to.” He repeated to himself. “You have to, goddamit, you have to.”

The same blood that slicked his hands was not far from his feet. The blood of an ally - though he assumed there was no lack of beast’s blood intermingled with it. He still refused to look to make sure. Perhaps both bodies, even though they lay several feet away from each other, had leaked enough deep-red liquid that the two puddles had broken their surface tension on the dusty floor. Perhaps they had converged, streaming together as what had once provided life to both their hosts now acted as any other liquid would act, following the force of gravity to the lowest point of the room.

His stomach turned. “Get out there, Zaiah.” He tried to convince himself. “Get out there, you miserable sack of shit. Staying in here ain’t gonna help anyone.”

I don’t want to

He felt like a child. A tall child, holding an immense single-sided blade like an elongated butcher’s knife. He felt his knees shaking and tears welling up in his eyes. He felt his heart pounding and his stomach churning, and he felt all this at once. As much as he wasn’t a child, not really, he also wasn’t made for this. He was a soft soul - always had been. Never been fit for anything more. Never been fit for killing.

But it didn’t matter what he was fit for. It only mattered what he chose to do.

And he chose to step out that door.

Every nerve in his body seemed to flare as he rebelled against his mind and stepped into the cold moonlight that was pouring through the doorway. He heard growling - not nearby, not immediately threatening, but that didn’t give him any relief.

How many more of them were there? Last he had seen, there were two, but that wouldn’t be the last of them. There wouldn’t ever be the last of them. In the lack of immediate danger, exhaustion nipped at Zaiah’s heels. He wasn’t fit for this.

Nobody is.

If this was never-ending, what good was it to continue on? If there was no hope, what was he still pushing for? It had been one thing to be dragged along behind the man who was now no more than a body in an abandoned shack. It was another thing completely to step out into a street creeping with these things, entirely of his own volition.

Was he the only one left? What did it mean if he was? What did it mean if he wasn’t?

He was wasting time.

If he didn’t fight, he’d die. If he fought, he’d die anyway.

Better to go out fighting, right?

That seemed to be the general consensus amongst his new peers. His life - a life that consisted of the scent of ink, stimulating intellectual debates, and high-society dinners - was already over. No chance of recovering it, not as long as these things ran rampant.

So he either stopped them, or he died.

I want to die.

“No you don’t, you whiny motherfucker.” Zaiah hissed at himself as he glanced down either direction of the road he was about to step into. Then he glanced back - not enough to actually take in the scene, just enough to think whether or not he had forgotten anything. And then, as he stepped out, he turned back towards the house fully one final time and checked one more, crucial direction - up.

A beast, silent, stared down at him.

He could see this one was fresh, and his stomach dropped at the sight. The host’s skull hadn’t yet been fully reabsorbed into the flesh of the new creature, leaving it’s jaws pried open like that of a snake’s - only, rather than consuming, this painful dislocation was in service of expelling. Zaiah had seen the initial transformation, how it looked like the host was vomiting up their own entrails, but in the mess of bubbling blood a new face would emerge from the throat of the old. This new, canine-like face never quite dried out, always seeming just slightly moist and bloody, no matter how long ago the transformation had taken place.

Eventually, the skull of the host would be completely joined with the flesh of the beast, and the form that it had originally held would be nothing more than a memory - if even that.

One of the eye-sockets of the host’s half-formed skull still held an eye, though it was glazed over and Zaiah was very doubtful that it could send any sort of optical information to the beast.

As the initial disgust and horror finally began to wane, Zaiah realized that the two had just been… staring at each other… for a very long while, at this point. Well, it had only been about 10 seconds. But that was at least 7 seconds that Zaiah shouldn't have have lived through.

The creature was breathing heavily. Where the hosts’ body receded like an ill-fitting skin suit, absorbing into the body of the beast the same way the skull eventually would, patches of fur had sprouted through. This fur, pale white, was soaked in blood.

The thing was wounded.

Zaiah’s eyes snapped back to the beast’s own. They were bulging and bloodshot, and narrowed in what Zaiah imagined to be a lot of pain. It gave a soft, hideous moan - a mixture of rumbling purrs and the voice of the host. By the color of the skin and the fur, the host had been a drow, like Zaiah. The voice was feminine. Zaiah shuddered.

The first thing you learned was not to think about what these things used to be. Don’t forget that now.

Zaiah shifted, readying his blade. The beast noticed the shift, but didn’t move.

The two of them must have had the same debate, Zaiah realized. To die or to fight. And it seemed they had landed on opposite sides.

It was still too far above him. He would have to get up to it - perhaps, by the time he made it close enough to strike, the beast would have changed its mind on the whole ‘living’ thing. He couldn’t risk that, he’d be in a very vulnerable position and would almost certainly lose. But to use a spell - that would risk causing enough of a disturbance that he’d call every other beast in the area to his location.

It was bleeding pretty heavily. There was a chance, then, that to walk away would be the best option.

But what if it wasn’t bleeding out? What if it lived? Even if it only survived long enough to infect one more person, that was…

Just do it.

He had to get over this part of him that debated. He had to get past this inner voice that wanted to travel down each hypothetical path. There was only one outcome that was acceptable - one of the two of them had to die.

He held out his hand, palm facing the creature as it perched on the edge of the misshapen shingled roof. With a deep breath, he fired the only spell he knew, the only one his mentor had managed to teach Zaiah before his recent and untimely death.

A small ball of flame built up at the heel of his palm, rolling and churning as it swelled with energy and then shot out in a streak of searing white light. The bolt flew directly at the creature’s forehead, piercing it between the eyes. For a moment the entry wound seemed to have cauterized shut behind itself, and the damage was almost indistinguishable. Then, in a wave of flames that began inwards and spread out in a ripple, the beast erupted into a ball of fire.

It screamed.

The roars of the beast’s voice intermingled with the ever-present tones of the host, creating a hideous harmony of fear and utter agony. Her voice - whoever she had been - was piercing. Zaiah had never heard anything like it. He hoped he never would again.

It was impossible to think of these things as animals when they sounded like that.

He backed away, slowly at first, then broke into a run. The noise and the sight was enough to bring any remaining beasts down upon him, though hopefully any of his allies that were still living would follow.

As he dodged into a side-street and took just a second to breathe, he couldn’t help but hear the hoarseness of his own panting and wonder - what would his voice sound like, when it mingled with a beast’s? And how many more days would he last until then?

[titanlights-moved]

in a way zaiah was sort of avoiding eloise & emrys after their spontaneous threesome because with how sudden it all was, he didn't get a chance to really process all that transpired between them. being with what could be called an ex & someone he really liked in secret definitely made things a bit confusing. so when he went back to visit eloise, he made sure to show that he wasn't there for anything but a friendly chat by bringing the two of them coffee when going to her place. hopefully he'd picked a good time & he wouldn't have to face emrys just yet as he wanted to deal with one person at a time.

"Zaiah!" Eloise calls out. She sits on a bench swing on her patio, writing out a letter that can be put aside for later. "Oh, thank you for the coffee! It's just what I needed today." Her face lights up as she takes a sip. "This is perfect! I'm not super picky about my coffee, but you nailed what I love. So what's up?" She motions for him to sit either on the bench or in one of the rocking chairs. "Just came by to chat?"

[biblicallyinaccuratespoons]

damn i didn't know libre office was even real for anyone else, nobody i've ever met has heard of it.

plz reblog for science

[snipputs]

8- Sleeper Agent

Zaiah knocked on the old apartment door and took a half-step back. It was still chilly this time of year-- at least by Seattle standards-- and he rarely left Cutter territory anyway. Shoving his hands deep in his pockets, he exhaled forcefully and cast a wary glance towards the corners of the hallway ceiling. No security cameras... at least visible ones. He wasn’t assured. The musing was cut short as Ryker opened the door abruptly, making her cautious compatriot jump. The petite blonde’s face-- normally curated to express a careful, young naivete, was marred by bruises and cuts. No acts today, it seemed. She was beat to shit and not feeling up to the usual masks.  “Hey, Zay’. Long time,” she muttered, pushing the door open enough with her shoulder for him to catch as she limped back into the barren apartment. Zaiah followed, mouth agape for a moment before he found his words.  “Shit.. what happened?” he croaked, instinctively heading for the medicine cabinet. Ryker settled stiffly into a chair at her little kitchen table, rolling her shoulders painfully.  “Miscalculation. Sywren didn’t find me as charming as the Shrike cover.”  Zaiah set the med kit down beside her and tilted her head up to look at him, thumb under her chin. Black eye, a split lip, and plenty of superficial cuts. It looked as bad as it probably felt.  “Multiple times, I take it?” “You could say that.” 

[biblicallyinaccuratespoons]

Hi i noticed you had fic requests open? I was wondering whether you'd be able to write a fic about bunny!legend for me? I'd love to have it fluffy!! Angst is just as good. I just love rabbit traits and the pink hair

There's also another idea, anything involving marin x legend, maybe some "marin is actually alive and well in legend's hyrule"

I'd be absolutely estatic if you wrote either of those ideas!!

I hope you like it!!! it took an entire month to write (i'm sorry) so i hope it's good!! as you can see i chose bunny legend (with just a sprinkling of angst)

The Chain finds themselves in a mysterious forest that causes a few problems, some reveals, and a whole lot of emotions.

"“WHAT DO YOU MEAN A ‘MAGIC AMPLIFYING FOREST?’” The bunny screamed, clutching his moon pearl tight to himself.

Why wasn’t it working?

“I mean,” Warriors started, looking out to the array of chaos in front of him, “it looks like this fog has some type of magic amplifying capabilities. How else do you explain this?”

Four had split, Twilight was Wolfie, Hyrule was... a fairy? And Time was significantly younger than usual. The weirdest was Sky, rendered mute and somehow non-corporeal."

[biblicallyinaccuratespoons]

Okay so i got possessed by the creativity gods and have now made a Four-Swords-Adventures Modern AU. Shattered Reflections.

Red:

sweet

bubbly

sometimes shy

a little chubby

Blue:

thrift store raccoon

muscle under layers of denim

loud + rough but a sweetie

Green:

dresses like a middle schooler

stocky and solid

too many grass stains

Vio:

tall and thin

arm muscles from archery

trying to bring Shadow back from being trapped in the mirror shard

Shadow:

trapped

likes Victorian clothes

----------- More Lore to Come!!!-----------

My friend @sleepy-the-loz-enthusiast has been helping me along with figuring out the designs for each of them, so ABSOLUTELY MASSIVE THANKS TO THEM I LOVE THEM SO MUCH THEY'RE THE COOLEST PERSON IN THE WORLD!!!

also shout out to my gf who actually convinced me to post this!! i'm planning to make this a series, so i can't wait to tell all y'all about everything lore-wise.

[biblicallyinaccuratespoons]

trying to finish writing the little!legend vs his fear of knights and i keep hitting roadblocks.

but at least i'm getting somehwere

pray for me/hj

[biblicallyinaccuratespoons]

okay so i really liked writing my chubby genderfluid Sky (link to the writing right there) that i drew them and i love them so much!!! this is actually the first piece i've felt genuinely happy with.

it serves as a reminder to me that i'm allowed to exist the way i am. and this is a reminder to you, that you are allowed to exist any way that makes you happy.

and if anyone wants me to ramble about all the little details please let me know i WANNA TELL YOU HOW NEAT THIS DRAWING IS!!!

anyways, this character is not 100% mine, this is Sky from the webcomic of the lovely jojo from @/linkeduniverse, but with my head canons mashed into them.

[biblicallyinaccuratespoons]

Legend has a fear of Knights, especially when he's small.

(non-ao3 version under the cut)

Tiny Bunny vs. The Hylian Knight-Mares --- Legend panics from being trapped with Warriors' Knights of Hyrule and ends up regressing. all that only to face his other fear with knights...

Warriors finding out he's a little.

---

“Oh so most of you are knights?” Gideon asked the group, one of Warriors’ friends from the war of his namesake.

The chain had been plopped into Wars’ Hyrule, which wasn’t really amazing in Legend’s own opinion, but he could grin and bear it until they got the hell out of here.

Hylia, he hated knights.

Legend stood awkwardly behind Sky, uneasy in the barracks of the Knights of Castle Hyrule, uncomfortably aware of the strange and all too familiar feeling creeping up inside him.

“Yeah, sort of!” Sky cheered, “I’m a Knight of Skyloft- er- my hometown, though I’ve since retired.” He mentioned.

Gideon laughed, “Yeah, I can tell!” he said jokingly, patting his own flat stomach in reference to Sky’s own chubbier physique.

Legend shook his head as he fought off the feelings of betrayal that the mind of the little pink bunny he was quickly slipping into becoming was starting to feel.

What did they mean Sky was a knight? Sky was good! He was sweet and kind and only hurt things when he really needed to.

Legend’s lip wobbled as he blinked back tears, suddenly feeling the daggers of judgement fall upon him as his heart rate picked up.

Knights laughed around him, the clink of swords sparring and the lighthearted teasing of the Captain clouded his mind, everything was getting too much. The stone walls were closing in on him as the glint of weapons felt like they were pointing at his throat. His overactive imagination showed him pictures of the Master Sword in Sky’s hands, inches away from slashing his throat out.

His head was going 90 miles a minute, he needed to leave.

“Legde? You good?” Warriors barked.

He needed to leave RIGHT NOW.

Legend felt like his tongue was made of lead, muttering a “’scuse me,” as he pushed through the crowds.

Yelps from knights sounded out as he picked up the pace at the protests from Wars calling his name.

Legend just wanted out.

He wanted to be snuggled up with Sky under a tree while the Skyloftian told him a story, or colouring a pretty picture.

Legend whimpered as he pushed through the heavy wooden doors, could he even trust Sky anymore?

Sky was a knight. Knights were bad. That meant Sky was bad.

Legend leaned himself up against a tree, digging his fingers into the soft bark as he tried to push back the fuzziness in his head.

Legend choked out a sob.

Momma Sky was bad?

“Dude!” Warriors trudged towards the spiralling Link, visibly upset. “What the fuck was that?” he exclaimed.

Warriors towered over him, Legend struggled not to shrink back. Big. Big. Big. He needed to be big. He was a big boy, not a small little bunny. He could handle this.

“’M sowry,” He whimpered, painfully aware that any hopes of pushing away Little Bunny were futile.

Shit

Shit

Shit.

No, not here, not now. Little Bunny couldn’t be happening now, with him of all people.

Legend felt his nose twitch, ears pinning against his head and feeling his brain soften into syrupy, cottony, scared, nothingness.

Warriors was watching him in rage as Legend crumbled before him.

The tiny bunny cowered, pulling his hands up to hide his face, waiting for the first blow from the infuriated Hylian knight before him.

“I’m sorwyyy!!” Legend wailed, sinking to the floor as Little Bunny’s legs turned to jelly.

Wars took a step back, now less angry and more just… confused. So confused.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Wars questioned, not used to a sobbing blob of Legend whimpering on the ground at his feet.

Legend continued to whimper, cowering in front of the captain.

Warriors jolted forward when the chubbiest of the links ran into him. Sky was panting, out of breath, and worried as he examined Legend’s horrified figure as he caught his breath and steadied himself.

“Oh no…” Sky muttered, steeling himself as Warriors whipped around to face Sky.

“What’s wrong with him??” Warriors asked, genuinely worried now.

Sky was sweating bullets, glancing from his little terrified bunny back up to the concerned captain, thoughts running a mile a minute but consisting of nothing helpful.

“He’s fine but you need to leave.” Sky choked out, understanding how much that was not going to happen, but trying anyways.

“No, he’s being insubordinate and now he’s acting weirder than normal. What’s going on with the Vet?” Warriors pressed on.

Sky ran his hands over his face, groaning. “Ledge is gonna hate me for this…” he mumbled.

Sky knelt down, completely ignoring the myriad of questions thrown at him by Warriors.

“Hey Little Bunny, those big men scared us, didn’t they?” Sky asked in a gentle voice, reaching out.

“Knights!!” Little bunny startled, dashing behind the tree. “don’ touch me!!” he squealed.

“What?” was all was needed from Warriors for Little Legend to start whimpering again. “Legend, what has gotten into you? I’m done with your games.” He grumbled, leaping to try to grab at the crying link.

Legend screamed, using whatever poor motor controls remained with him and scurried off, only being able to stumble so far before ducking behind some crates in front of a large stone wall.

Warriors stomped off to pursue him, immediately being intercepted by Sky.

“Look, I know he’s acting.. er… “strange” but you’ve gotta trust me and just leave me to take care of him.” Sky pleaded.

“I can’t do that and you know that. Whether he’s just messing with us or he’s sick or something I need to know.” Warriors demanded.

Sky sighed.

“Okay fine. But just- don’t scare him again, okay?” Sky pleaded.

Warriors grunted.

“It will be explained in due time, you just need to trust me on this one.”

Now it was War’s turn to sigh, throwing up his hands in defeat and following Sky to where legend was camped out.

Sky knelt down.

“Hi there Link!” he whispered, trying to pitch up his tone to be far happier than the stress flowing through his veins right now.

Warriors was the last person Legend wanted to find out about his regression.

Sky was praying to Hylia he could salvage this from going terribly.

“We’re kinda scared, aren’t we?” Sky whispered, “We don’t have to be scared, nobody’s gonna hurt you!” he insisted.

Legend made no move to leave from here he was cowering behind empty crates. Sky sighed.

Legend cowered behind the crates, screaming at any hand that came to fish him out.

“This is just like that day at the inn,” Warriors mumbled, pulling back after having his hand swatted at one too many times.

Sky sighed, making eye contact with the terrified Link. “I have to tell him, little bunny, you know that.” he said quietly. Legend just continued to cry.

Sky took a deep breath, getting Warriors’ attention.

“You need to keep this a secret, because I’m pretty sure Legend deemed you as ‘the last person he would ever want to know’ but…” Sky trailed off, watching Warriors’ face contort in thought.

“Legend’s a regressor. It means his mind can revert back to that of a child when he gets stressed or upset.” Sky explained. “Somehow, from my understanding, it’s never happened in a seriously dangerous situation. This is kinda the worst time it’s happened.”

Warriors stayed silent, processing.

“So, he’s safe?” Warriors asked.

Sky smiled, “As long as we can keep him safe.”

Warriors stood tall, glancing at Legend before steeling himself again and turning his attention to Sky.

“How can I help?”

Sky grinned.

“Captain?”

“Yeh?”

“Go get wolfie.”

“What?” Warriors questioned.

“Just,” Sky interrupted him, holding up his hands placating, “just go get twilight, tell him that Bunny needs wolfie.”

Warriors was quick to obey that time, rushing off back to the castle.

Sky took a deep breath, crouching down to where Legend was peering at him from behind crates. “You’re gonna be okay, Little Bunny, your fluffy friend is on the way.”

A grey blur bounded onto the scene, nearly knocking Sky over as Wolfie rushed over to Legend.

Legend seemed apprehensive at first, but it was no time flat before Wolfie licked the tear tracks off of Tiny Bunny’s face.

“Huh, that worked…” Warriors mumbled, watching Legend giggle and try to push Wolfie away as the wolf had cemented his desire to lick every square centimetre of the frightened boy’s face.

Sky smiled, trying to ignore how his joints creaked as he stood up. “Usually it does.”

“Usually?” Warriors questioned, “like, this happens regularly?”

“Well, it’s been a couple times so far. Mostly during downtime.” Sky explained. “It’s nothing to be worried about, captain.”

Sky startled just a bit when an unfamiliar tug at the leg of his trousers.

Legend was sitting on the ground, one arm around Wolfie and the other arm connected to the knee of Sky’s pants. “Birdie!” Legend whispers.

“Hi bunny!!” Sky says quietly, keeping his voice light and happy. Legend tugs at Sky’s pants again. “Up.”

Wars just stares.

“D’you want me to hold you?” Sky asked, smiling warmly at Legend nodding.

Legend pulls at Sky’s sailcloth once he’s in his arms, rubbing the soft fabric against his cheek. “You alright bunny?” Sky asks.

“Kights’re meanies. An-an dey r bad.” Legend mumbled.

Warriors smiled, putting a hand on the shoulder not occupied by Legend’s head.

“Even me?” he asked with a smile.

Legend jerked back, the tiny bunny pulling Sky’s sailcloth over his face to hide.

Sky frowned, tugging gently at his sailcloth to peel back the fabric from the tiny bunny. “You’re okay little kit, it’s just the captain, he won’t hurt you.”

Warriors smiled warmly, holding up his hands soothingly. “I’m a friend, you’re okay. My knights aren’t going to hurt you,” he soothed.

Legend allowed his shelter to be pried from him.

“Pr’mise?” the tiny bunny asked, eyes widening pleadingly.

Warriors smiled, reaching out to fluff Legend’s hair. “I promise, Vet.”

Sky shifted Legend in his arms, “C’mon, let’s get back to the barracks, we should make sure they know that we’re not dead.”

Warriors stopped Sky in his tracks. “Wait, don’t we have to hide him or something?”

Sky shrugged, “It smelled awful in there, we’ll just say Ledge, Twi, and myself are getting some air outside. Simple as that!!” he mentioned.

And that is what they did. Sky, Legend, and Wolfie hung out in the sun, under a tree. Sky told stories of his time as a Knight of Skyloft. Stories of his friends and loved ones. And if their little Legend fell asleep drooling on Wolfie’s coat? Twilight said nothing.

[biblicallyinaccuratespoons]

Another Little Legend fic!!

Legend takes a moment to ask Sky about what exactly happened the other day, the day takes a turn for the better.

Sequel-ish to "Tiny Bunny in his Burrow, Gazing up at the Sky"

"Legend glanced around apprehensively, scooting himself closer to Sky. “I want to talk,” he muttered. 

Sky blinked, expression blank. “I mean yeah. Sure, go ahead!” 

Legend groaned. “No.” he scooted closer, his knee touching Sky’s. “I wanna talk about... what happened... last week...” he trailed off, getting quieter with every word. 

Sky eyed Legend, watching the veteran squirm under his scrutinizing gaze. 

“The.. the uh... the thing with the bed? And the splinter? And the hiding...” Legend mumbled under his breath. "

[biblicallyinaccuratespoons]

hands you this fic and scurries back into the abyss

It's a Linked Universe Age Regression fic! enjoy!

Legend is crying, trapped under the bed, all he wants is a hug. All he needs is someone to help him. What is wrong with him?

A Linked Universe Age Regression Fanfiction because we're lacking in that department.

"Crying.

It wasn’t a thing Legend tended to do. He prided himself in refraining from letting tears fall. But right now it was all he could manage.

Something was wrong. Something was weird. He couldn’t figure it out. His mind was fuzzy.

His limbs felt heavy and like they were filled with chilly cotton, his head was fuzzy and he couldn’t talk. Well, not in coherent sentences.

Legend had shoved himself into the smallest little crevice of the inn’s room he could find. He didn’t know why but he needed to be small. He needed to take up as little space as possible, which is why he found himself whimpering underneath Sky’s bed. He shrunk back at the hands that came to grab at him. He whimpered again, wanting touch but not wanting to be touched like that. He struggled to make out the conversation of the concerned chain."