#summer writes linktober shadow 2023

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow Day 3

Twilight

Definitely self indulgent, just a small thing I managed to throw together after a sleep deprivation filled day.

My Twilight Princess lover side definitely comes out on this one, as well as some vague headcanons in a short drabble, as always can be read as platonic or romantic.

There was something special, you think, about the way autumn came in a howling moonson of glory into the Era of Twilight, heralding the coming of the temperate strokes over the woods in flowering tones of russet, bronze, maple and amethyst in gilding gold over the evergreen of Hyrule’s eternity in warmth even as the weather turned ever colder, the late afternoon sunset fleeting in it’s mercurial transition into the hour of twilight, only matched in honor to the abandoned forests of the Era of Sky, the enduring wealds of the Era of time and the untamed thickets of the Era of Wilds. Oh so contrasting to it’s hero but no less lovely for it was a perfect balance, when you first met Twilight (or well, got properly acquainted, really, but that’s a story for another day), it was clear he was no less captivating than his homeland, as steady as the oaks and pines stretching towards the heavens and with the kindness of it’s people, was it any wonder then, that you found it easy to love the man with the loyalty and eyes of wolf to match the divine beast in his soul?

So it was why through a long, long period of trying to make the true extent of your feelings as unseen as a dream after waking hours and trying to hide just how enamored you had slowly become, that you became well acquainted with the tells that showed something weighted on his mind as you left Ordon’s Spring after washing Epona for the long road ahead tomorrow. The way his head hang just a little, ears lowering to match the way Wolfie’s would when he gently nudged one of the members of the Chain into holding him after a nightmare as his walls attempt to come back up, as solemn as a wolf in mourning.

Ever so responsible, ever steady. Trying to take the world onto his shoulders as any hero would.

He should have know it wouldn’t work on you, not after all you’ve been through.

“Rupee for your thoughts?” Your tone gently broke through the stillness of the stream as you fed Epona an apple, Twilight’s ears twitch as he turns towards you, softening as he notes the way the twilit enchanted sunlight lingered upon your visage in a most ephemeral way, shadows holding affectionately and brightening the stars of your eyes and the liminal nature of this moment and how Epona neighs, gently nudging the side of your hand for more rubs or maybe apples he knew you loved sneaking to her when he wasn’t looking, making your airy, fae like laughter free to be taken by the breeze.

“Reminiscing, is all.” He answer you, tone a low rumbling of the fall winds and like handling mirror shards into something new and beautiful as he privately holds onto the memory of your smile, holding it with claws and teeth for he can never quite be sure for how long he’ll have it, “It feels like a lifetime ago since...”

Since the start of his journey, since the beginning of his new one in the throes of attempting to settle in Ordon to lick his wounds after the lingering shaded reality of another realm settled into the crevices of his soul and marrow after grabbing the neck of the beast inside his being and biting down onto the hackles had left the injury open to bleed again.

Since losing Midna shattered his heart and killed him all at once, leaving him to live a life of haunting his own existence until you looked at him, all of him, and guided him back to life. Picking the shards of his heart and slowly putting them back together with the care of someone he’d seen mourn for an unfortunate nightingale on the road even as you cut yourself when he attempted to push you away.

You nod, gently resting your head on his shoulder, your gaze flicking to the Shadow Crystal, you don’t press about Midna and Twilight feels so, so warm, breathing out, you were both working on it, slowly but surely. Midna may not be dead, but he knew her absence left you haunted too, “Does it still hurt?” The twisting of reality upon his form, drawing from a well of ambition from long gone spirits who’d attempted to grab at the Goddesses throat, and the way the darkness so fiercely claimed any part of his he could touch. Making both of your shadows darker as the veil between worlds thinned, refusing to allow anything else to attempt a claim.

He shakes his head, gently putting his chin atop yours, “No, not anymore.”

You hum, gently nudging his chin in a sweet, adoring nuzzle, “I’m glad, then.”

You both remain on the spring until night falls, basking into one another’s presence and soaking into the timeless moment of learning to love one another as you can.

Twilight silently wishes that, just this once, he’s allowed to keep this the same way the Twilight Realm still keeps the old him.

[summertimemusician]

Linktober (Shadow) 2023, Day 11

Monsters (Dead Hand)

Summer Stop Giving Reader/PoV Character and the Chain a Hard Time and Trauma Challenge (impossible) /j. But really I'll probably write something lighter for Linktober or Linktober Shadow later to compensate for this one lol. Probably a sequel to this one that has Reader actually having a nice time with the Links for once.

Technically since unfortunately studying for future exam season in like a couple of days has been kicking me in the ribs and thus my time was highly cut and unfortunately I don't have an Ocarina to give me more, this is actually a mix of prompts! The ones in the title, Keese, Wolfos, Wizzrobe, Lizalfos, Redead, and Boss, although they are not the focus here, mostly just mentioned but technically checking out the boxes, maybe next time I'll go more in deep on that (Like the original idea that basically was Reader taming a pet Wolfos as a guard hound that I will not elaborate on at least not this year), instead y'all get this with the boss that gave a lot of people childhood trauma and was never seeing again since because we really don't talk about just why Dead Hands are terrifying much, just that they are, really missed opportunity to use them more in an LU context lol.

As always any relationship between Reader and any of the Chain can be interpreted as romantic or platonic, and Reader is Gender Neutral on Purpose. And First is here because again, this would have been longer if exam season wasn't kicking me in the ribs and I have some really evil ideas involving First, Reader and Time bonding over having trauma of enclosed spaces, but thankfully y'all don't get that today lol, or not, it would be a really fluffy scene so up to y'all if it's a win or a loss.

TW:

Don't think there's anything too heavy-ish? But I'm a horror fan so I'm not someone who can accurately judge that. I'd say graphic descriptions of violence and gore, and being restrained/pinned in place and the entire deal that is the Dead Hand's existing, so please don't read if you're squeamish or uncomfortable. Health is important and specially mental health and I always leave these warnings on Linktober Shadow related prompts or heavier stories, so just a heads up so no one is caught by surprise.

Anyway, enjoy reading!

It was an almost unanimous agreement that no hero liked to pass through a cemetery in Hyrule.

From the restless Gibdo, to the mischievous yet usually cruel Poes and the lost Ghini, to the ever wandering Stalfos and the ghastly agonized Redead and ever determined ghoulish Garo, nothing good ever came from entering in areas where dead things roam. You can't be sure if it's because of the magic in Hyrule, the living force of light and shadow and the divinity coursing through the land, or simply the will of the undead or the consequences of Demise attempting to claim the Triforce, graveyards and desolated fields meant silence, they should be where those who are gone should finally acquire their final catharsis, not to roam endlessly without release, solemn as these places are they are still places for a peaceful end and to be denied such due to the whims of the Shadow... You can think of very few awful fates that can compare.

('Terrible fates, you could say.' The grimly bemused part of your mind whispers, as you walk alongside Time further down into the crypt that you and the Chain had followed the shadow into, silver, prisitne armor briefly blends with old, rusted, bloody gold and you think you hear the rattling of bones in the distance, the draw of a rusted, but still serviceable sword. You shut it away with a snarl as you cut down the Stalfos attempting to ambush Wild from the rear, and it goes down and back into the darkness with a screech alongside the chilling knowleged and the sick cracking of broken bones, not on your watch, never on your watch, you refuse.)

"Of all places why did it have to be a bloody crypt?" Grimaced Warriors, casting a weary glance towards the skulls decorating the walls, their empty sockets empty but silently cutting, as if sneering at the fact you lot had dared disturb the dead, as if it wasn't the Shadow's mere presence making what would otherwise be a place for rest into a possible death trap.

Legend smirked, though you could tell he wasn't anymore pleased from the way he marched through the cold, cracked stone floor, steps flighty and eyes darting around corners, "What, a bit too much for you, soldier boy?"

"No," came the prim answer, although the twitch of the hand near his scabbard as you stepped into an open chamber gave him away, as well as Wind being kept at his side rather than near the wall, "Just don't generally like fighting the undead in closed spaces. It's a recipe for disaster."

"On that I believe we all can agree on." Came Time's voice, cutting through the banter, tense as a drawn bowstring, you knew being back in a crypt wasn't easy for him, with the way his jaw tensed, you both had the same awful memories of a similarly buried, abandoned place where dead things roamed without cease, frantic, hungry for the warmth of the living, "Keep your guard up, and stay close together."

Almost as if on cue came the monsters from the open corridors, you didn't hesitate in drawing your blade to cut through the enemy, keese were easily dispatched by Four and Legend's swords, you spun to slit the throat of a growling Wolfos from Twilight's era going for Sky's back just as he mercilessly chased down the Black Lizalfos, the beast clearly avoiding the glow from the Sword of Evil's Bane. Time's back to yours as you cleared the path for him and blocked the Shadow's exit through the left corridor, it had already proven that it would not matter if you did or not, but you refused to not let it work for survival.

The jolt of magic being used crawling up your spine was your first warning. Like the build up of lightning in a storm, the taste of rust and a feeling like tar  slithers up your throat.

The second was Wild's warning shout as the chamber shook with the grating, chilling, blood curdling howl of the Redeads, Time lunging away from your side to slash the beasts away from Wind and Warriors with all of the fury of a wolf defending it's pack, before you had to throw yourself back, slamming your back against the arch on the right as it caved in, lest you be crushed alongside the Wolfos coming for your neck the second the older hero moved.

You were separated.

You were alone.

A really, really bad spot to be when in Hyrule's catacombs.

"Are you alright?!", Came muffled from the other side of the stones, the hint of an actual wolf's growl and the distinctive Ordonian cadence, Twilight.

"I'm fine! Keep fighting, I'll find my way to you guys!", You yell back, heart racing, trying not to think about what you could find on your way back, you didn't have any bombs on you, it wasn't feasible to use them in a place as old as this, not without risk bringing down the ceiling on you and the Chain. But most catacombs have interconnected hallways, if you moved quickly, you might just avoid finding anything that you won't be able to handle on your own.

You think Twilight replies, but it's muffled by another Redead's yowl, you wince, your muscles lock up and you feel something warm drip from your ears, but thankfully you are not rendered immobile due to the involuntary wall, you swallow your trepidation and get moving.

The further you get away from the fallen stones, the more silent the catacombs extending from the crypt you were dropped in became, shadows twist oddly by the torches upon the wall with only your breathing and the cold, unfeeling remains of the dead to keep you company, the lowly burning flames bringing you no warmth. The corridors blended together in the darkness cast by the faint light, the shades contorting themselves in the crevices of your paranoia the longer you went on with only your own hurried footsteps to make any true sound.

Not one monster had found it's way to you thus far, though, and according to the copy of the map Legend had made the second you had acquired the original from a very unfortunate Wizzrobe from Wild's era. You just needed to pass one more open chamber to find the corridor leading to your boys, You couldn't keep them waiting, who knew how long it would take for the fight to finish if Redead's were involved? And staying still when the Shadow could turn itself intangible was practically begging it to switch it's attention, it usually didn't pay you as much mind as it did the heroes, Time specially (it seemed to hold a grudge against him more than any of your boys, you noted bitterly), but it would occasionally target you if it meant getting a rise from any of the Link's or if it felt you were too  secure in your safety, it was better if you found your way back first to the hunt before you became hunted.

You grit your teeth, by Hylia's dripping gash, you were so. darn. tired. of. being. hunted.

Of watching your friends being led into a wild hunt with no end in sight, dragged by the noose by a remnant that refused to stay dead, you never thought you could burn with so much anger, with the desire to see if fire would scare it sober into ceasing in it's infection of all of Hyrule's Eras. But unfortunately you knew it didn't work like that, so you had to survive, you would survive, because someone had to protect the heroes when the heroes protected everyone else and if no one was going to step up to the job, you'd just have to do it yourself.

Shaking yourself from your thoughts, lest you end up drowning in them, you breath in relief as soon as you come upon the metal door with the symbol of the royal family, faded and rusted with age, there. You just needed to pass through this chamber and the corridor next to it, and you'd be back with Link, all of them, and hopefully out of here. You push it open, grip tightening on your long dagger, almost a sword, good enough to cut and hide. The thick and pungent combination of old, congealed blood, sick and decaying flesh, something like rotten eggs dipped in alcohol and withered flowers hits your nose, making you nauseous but you press on, the chamber is circular and dimly lit, with a long cracked, soft stone from a leak in the walls. You studiously do not look at the far corner of the dungeon or the pillory's and shackles scattered around near the cells,  there's a second door to the other side, as soon as you pass through it you'll be in another corridor.

... It's silent, too quiet. Unease slithers and twists around you like vines, but you can't delay, you won't, so you keep walking-

Until you can't.

Something has grabbed a hold of your leg. You look down, and your blood freezes, spotting a long, sickly, pale arm and a bright crimson, elongated nails, claw-like, digging into your ankle, having dug itself up from the fragile ground.

You don't hesitate, slashing down violently at the offending limb, frantic terror spreads through your blood, you knew what was here. It featured in your nightmares for a long, long time, you knew it still haunted Time's, the limb goes slack as it is severed, and you barely note the way it starts bleeding black and green at the stump, thankful for Four's expert craftsmanship and maintenance hints as you dive to the exit. You don't make it far, it's companion limbs  bursting in front of your path like a snake emerging from the ground, it makes a solid grab for your  arms, one of them grabs you by the scalp, firmly digging as you dodge and weave between, a stabbing pain upon your skull from the indomitable grip of something fueled by fury, twisted magic and rigor mortis and makes you cry out, your slight moment of hesitation allowing two more hands to latch onto your legs and arms, nails slicing through your flesh like easily and digging, tearing like a rabid hunting dog's teeth upon an unfortunate deer, leaving deep gashes upon your arms and ankles, it's not unlike being pinned and held to a torture rack, in hindsight, ironic given just where in the crypt you ended up.

Your hear the ground below shifting below you, a groan carrying through the air, awfully monstrous, coldly human. You struggle harder like a desperate butterfly upon a dissection board, from your peripheral, you see the form of the thing unhurriedly dragging itself over, it uses the sharp and bloody ends of where bone was broken to slice it's hands off to shuffle out of the grave, using it's stubs as support. Long long neck barely supporting it's elongated head, the scent of rot intensifies and you feel like gagging as it settles it's empty, frigid, hungry eye sockets on your bound form; it's broken jaw contorting itself in a mockery of a human smile over rotten gums and exposed teeth, stretching unnaturally and bringing emphasis to it's rotting, bloodied sunken features. From behind it's bloated, putrid shape, barely obscured by the bloodied white cloth and the grotesque vision of the undead you swear the crimson eyes of the shadow, watching you coldly, the hint of a knife sharp, serpentine smile as the sound of wet meat slamming across the ground rings in the chamber.

Fury mixes with your panic as you snarl, trying to twist the dagger in your grip as best as you can to drive it into the arms, pain and blood drips from the open wound but you don't care; you need to get away from the Dead Hand. A monster like that feels no pain when struck for it is not human, not any longer, and you couldn't hope to face an infected one alone, it shuffles over the floor, unhurriedly shuffling like a predator that knows it's prey can't run away, it moans and groans with hunger as it approaches and you have no intention of giving it a meal, you grit your teeth as the nails sink deeply into your shoulders and arms, using your blade to saw through rotting flesh and hopefully break bone with every single inch of strenght you have, the blade is slick in your hand with your own blood and the poison-tar of the Shadow's infection burning through you but you do not mind, can't. You need to get away-

The undead's teeth sink into the hollow of your collarbone, blunt, human teeth that shouldn't have half the strenght it does to rip through flesh, blood and crack bone, and you caterwaul with pain, skin crawling and numbing and set aflame with curses sent from the dark reflection of the hero, darkening, veins blackening, your eardrums vibrate with the force of your own agony and you are sure you could rival a Redead on pitch alone of your tortured howl. Struggling even more ferociously, attempting to disloged it, kick it off, your blade sucessfully slashes through the arm from your reverse grip, pushing away from it with the savegery off a cornered predator you sink your long dagger into the undead's eye sockets, tearing through it's cheek with animal ferocity, it keens high and chilling, you're losing blood quickly and it (for it's not a human, not anymore, you can't feel sympathy for it, won't. You can't hesitate.) knows, for it tries to chomp down onto your vulnerable neck, your arm being the only thing keeping it from biting it out as you growl with pain, although you can't be sure it just won't bite through, it's teeth are bared, the pitch of it's blank eyes locked onto yours in stalemate, you have the advantage of not being weakened by hunger and decay, not sluggish like it but that will not help for long, the clammy being determined to bleed you dry and feast on your corpse and you are drowning drowning drowningDROWNINGWITHWRETCHEDTORMENT MAKE.THE.PAIN.STOP-

A scream of your name, sword calloused hands yank you away from claws and fangs (because nothing with blunt teeth and nails should be able to wound someone so throughly), you waver on your feet, swaying, supported by a warm, strong body and pulled away. A sword slashes the foul being away from you and you go lax, numb with pain.

First, First was supporting you. Keeping you steady, stopping you from falling, snarling at the corpse with a lion's fury, holding you protectively. Time tears by him like a man possessed, frenzied with the look of a man looking at his worst nightmare and growling in denial. The Links, wounded but alive, the Chain had met you halfway.

The last thing you remember before losing conciousness as adrenaline leaves your body and everything goes dark, is wishing that they'll burn it to be sure it's gone for good. It's the kindest thing that can be done for a such a wretched existence.

You'd be okay.

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow Day 7

Gloom Hands

This goes out to the way I cackled hysterically once seeing these things in TOTK, well done Zelda Team. They're a terrifying concept and I really feel exploring that could be fun, even if this prompt gave me a headache and a half.

Bit late today because we've been pelted by way too many storms/lightning and writing on mobile with lightning shaking your house is generally a bad idea, so I spent most of the time writing this and the Linktober prompt by hand, then transcribing it back onto mobile as soon as I could touch eletronics without the major risk of being zapped and picking a god and praying that my internet wouldn't be too funky so I could get it out on time. Short one again though because I still need to finish the Linktober prompt so it should come out later today or fully tomorrow, sorry folks.

Anyway, as always can be read as romantic or platonic, also Sage is here both because of the prompt and because the mental image of Wild Reader and Sage trauma bonding over the extremely twisted nature Gloom/the Malice have compared to just dark magic in general in LoZ was too funny to resist, if Nintendo won't talk about the many variations of Dark Magic in LOZ and how it affects any who come in contact with it then lord darn it I guess I'll just have to do it myself (or as much as I can without breaking out the companion essay to the Realm of Darkness and Realm of Light essay which I'm already having trouble digging out).

TW:

Technically graphic descriptions of decay, gore and eldritch horror, and Reader just not having a good day in general, don't recommend reading I'd you're highly squeamish.

When you’ve first met Sage, as the Chain temporarily dubbed him, you and Wild didn’t miss the way he looked so, so haunted. Emotions warring like a storm as he looked Wild over in a mix of disbelief and the weariness of a wounded fox getting ready to bite just to escape, at the Chain with such longing ache that made one’s heart break, the way the first time he met Wolfie he didn’t hesitate to throw himself atop the canine and hug him so close like he was trying to melt into the fur, and looking at you like he didn’t know wether to cry, scream or to shut down before he buried it under the mask you knew your resident Champion could use when trying so desperately to keep it together, hands shaky as he signed in a way that set your teeth on edge and felt like you had taken a dozen of ice arrows to the back, urgent, 'It’s not safe. None of you should be here. You need to leave. Now.'

Needless to say it was alarming, even as you all knew just how ferociously untamed his and Wild’s Hyrule could be, with being overrun with so, so many types of divinity through each crack, root, drop and flesh of it’s beings. From Hylia’s cold calculating care, the Three Goddesses blood, tears and breath of life, to the Malice’s howling self sustaining fury, The Lost Woods ever overgrowing freedom and even the remnants of the Fierce Deity’s hunt in Satori’s and Malaniya's savage display of cyclic eternity, it wasn’t any surprised that apart from the Traveler’s Hyrule it was the most aggressive one with the smorgasbord of energy so thick it made even you choke on it everytime you stepped foot in it. Beautiful and free in an echo of it’s once untamed state in the age of myth even before Sky.

Over time, you and the Chain learned how to adapt to it. To listen to the warnings Wild gave about the Guardians and about the remains of Malice in his monsters, of how the moon had been forever tainted with it and how, until Sheikah tech was fully repurposed it would be best to avoid the castle all together it was difficult but manageable, and even if Sage’s reaction was alarming (and he seemed even more troubled once Wild passed onto him from Sky that, while he wasn’t to come with them yet due to how things were apparently ‘fated’ to happen, there was no way you all could leave quite yet, distantly sticking by Wild and Twilight when possible and checking on everyone’s health when not doing so), you’d though it would be much the same for his own, and in parts you were right as the Chain had taken to the new environment like fishes to water even if it took some adjustments.

Though you were quickly proven wrong, and you could have laughed at your past self’s naivety.

It was meant to be a quick run to clear a black blooded monster camp, and while decently challenging, it was over quickly between the Chain getting more apt at fighting the enemy, Sage’s addition as the man fought as ruthlessly and ferociously as Wild, switching between deadly marksmanship and feral combat on a dime and the absence of the unnaturally inteligent black scales lizalfos, you’d rest and be on your way quickly. Or so you all thought.

Twilight had been the first to smell it, the bubbling of dark but distinctively twisted magic, even more so than Zant’s brand of madness. Wild the one to spot it, the rot black and blood crimson building up at the edges of camp from his vantage point but it was Sage who had tensed, eyes snapping to the faint glow the Master Sword emmited just as the sky darkned before his frantic, alarmed howl swept over the Chain, the sheer desperate, protective panic making all of your boys still, because Sage never used his voice unless he absolutely had to, “IT'S NOT OVER! MOVE!”

It was all the warning any of you got before reality twisted, straining, and then finally screaming, the heavens staining with crimson as if gutted open, the eyes of a sin against nature itself cutting through your relief and infecting your veins with terror. It shakes you to the core, freezing with indecisive flight or fight as you spotted the tide. Heart in your throat as you tried to comprehend what you saw.

“WHAT THE-“, Legend cursed, looking ashen as his grip on his fire rod tightened. Really, all of your heroes look disturbed and you can’t blame them.

“Get to high ground if you want to live! We can’t fight these things.”, snapped Sage, much more composed, but no less frenzied.

None of you hesitate to listen.

(There were some unspoken rules, when in Wild’s Hyrule the first time around. If there is something the Champion, the most reckless of all Links, wasn’t willing to fight head on or said wasn’t worth it, the best course of action was to listen, specially if the group was vulnerable.)

The hands screech, the tide rolling over the land with an reality splitting clamoring, a sound so filled with fury and so, so twisted it made your Hylian’s ears friends bleed and you lift a hand to your head in pain as Wild pulled you along, Sage leading the charge for the nearest cliff face as Warrior’s threw Wind over his shoulders and Twilight didn’t hesitate before doing the same to Four, the frost from Legend and bomb arrows from Time and Sky barely doing nothing to slow it’s relentless charge, merely taking from it a distorted, pitched crescendoing belt of pure rage and the overlaying of many tortured souls screaming all at once, of Hyrule rejecting this existence from the world but wounded at being unable to vanquish it, the sound it makes as it spreads and drags itself across the ground with uncanny speed with it’s many, many arms like something in between sludge and smacking, wet, rotten flesh.

Sage switches between shooting arrows to helping the other Links up the cliff and shooting at it’s eyes with the strongest bow he has,making as many arrow fusions on the spot as he dares. The others quickly taking as many ranged weapons from their sides to do the same. You help Hyrule up the clifface, while Wild swipes Cryonis over the field, climbing up himself, being hauled to Sage’s side.

You are almost there when one of the hands latch onto your ankle, and you go down with a scream, Sage all but dropping the bow in his hand in favor to latching onto your hand with snarl. And

It.

Is.

Agony.

(It burns through you like your very atoms have been set on fire,bthe hands take the opportunity to sink into you, long long unnatural fingers sinking into your flesh in a unhurried blanket of darkness, the Demon King’s will is roaring, growling with abyssal rage, if it cannot rule Hyrule, it would kill everything in it instead. Gloom sinks into your cells, raptures the membranes and makes the skin slip, frantically invading, you taste rotten flesh on the back of your throat and the scent of wither and ash choke you as it sinks into your flesh, marrow, breaks down your bones bit by bit, cracking and infecting and breaking down your very essence with the fury of a dead deity which refused die, decay on an accelerated rate all over where the hands clutched like a vice as the Links trunfo pull you out or attack it and it is painful and it’s excruciatingly wretched and make it STOPCEASEITHURTS-)

A well aimed Skyward Strike severs the connection, the pain stops and you fall into Sage, breathing hard and unevenly, grasping at him like a lifeline, clawing and counting at Wild’s arm on your other side like a wounded animal, your taste blood on your throat from the screams that were ripped from it, Hyrule falling to his knees on your side as healing magic washes over you like a shroud, trying to get you to respond.

Reality howls along with you, before all is silent.

It barely took a second.

“... Just what were those things?”, rasps Sky, horrified, a sentiment echoed through the Chain, though you can’t focus on it, trying not to choke on your own blood and to pull yourself together, Wild’s hand unconsciously settling on your pulse, shaking, and Sage’s tense tone cuts through the air as he scans the area. Still tense, tone hoarse.

“... The reason why I wanted you to leave.”

Later, much, much later, before you all leave, you learn they are called Gloom Hands.

It’s unanimously agreed that all you hold loathing for those abominations, even long after you’re forced to leave Sage.

He whispers something to Wild on the way out, hugging him close, trembling. Your Champion nods, you can’t make out the words, but you make sure to hold him as close as you can before you go, indulge him in checking for your pulse even long after you’re healed.

You hope he’ll be safe, he hopes that the next time you all see each other again, it’ll be under better circumstances.

[summertimemusician]

Linktober (Shadow) Day 10

(Puppet) Zelda

Summer Stop Showcasing Your Love for Twilight Princess and Sleep Deprivedly Writing when Exam Season is Right Around the Corner Challenge (Impossible) /j

Look, we don't talk enough about the Zelda's (or as I affectionately call them, Valkyries) and certainly not about Dusk, whom I am still so bitter that they gave her such a good design but never did anything with it, hence this is my attempt to fix that by giving her the spotlight and some love and give homage to the original Puppet Zelda, Dusk walked so Flora could run it (or well, TP Ganon did so TOTK Ganon could), hence I smashed these two prompts together lol, might make it a two parter after the others are done, but for now as always it's left to interpretation.

As always anything can be read as romantic or platonic or in and out of an LU concept, though the names are used for convenience and to give a rough idea of which kind of scenario we're working with here. Though it's less one of the boys and reader and more one of the ladies and reader this time, if that's not your cup of tea then kindly scroll by, again, this is just something very self indulgent before I pass out and work on the rest lol.

Anyway, good reading!

You slowly but surely came to adore festivals in Hyrule.

No matter the era, it filled you with so much joy whenever your group would come to a new Hyrule during the Hylian holidays, from the Picori Festival in Four's Era, to the Harvest Festival in Legend's, the Pioneering Celebration's in Wind's or the Spring and Summer Equinoxes in Time's and Warrior's, it usually meant your heroes would get the chance to unwind and relax, to eat good food with little worry for a portal (as they strangely didn't appear directly during festival days), you could see the Chain's family and friend's and have such a good time eating or dancing or learning the tradition's from your boy's. Such a stroke of luck came the next time you landed on Twilight's Era, as well as an invitation letter from Dusk to come to Castle Town and celebrate.

(Also translated as 'The nobles are probably hounding her about having 'The One Who Purged the Twilight' make at least one appearance in the castle and she couldn't stall them anymore' by Twilight, with tone tinged by exasperation and aggravation both, albeit much less than the poison of the sharp bitterness of Legend towards the nobility, Wild's tense silence that could mean a memory, or even Warrior's passive aggressiviness when it came to formal events.)

It would be the first time you'd truly meet a Zelda since joining the Chain, and Dusk was likely the most curious case, being crowned queen soon after the Twilight invasion was over and done with and only show during times of war and the only one to have an almost fully cordial relationship with Twilight until the coronation (even Time was closer with Lullaby according to Malon, likely due to knowing her future self). Neither you nor Twilight could say you knew much about her compared to the other's and their respective princesses (or queen's in Warrior's case), so it was a surprise to be invited at all though none of you could say you minded, the plaza of Castle Town was brilliantly decorated in the late autumn sun,  with the decorations glowing orange, yellow and blue witth lanterns and banners all around Castle Town, with decorated shops many stalls rented out for food, games and people, from young children laughing as they played to couples stealing kisses to family and friend's reuniting, it was no surprise you and your boys also got lost in the excitment after having set off from Ordon's own festival, decked out in fall colors and the green many of them favored and paint made to mimic Ordona's markings , you and Twilight getting swept away in the dance at the center with one of the many traveling troupes of musicians, you couldn't help your bright grin to match his as you occasionaly had to dodge running children in between the spinning dancers, clapping along to the song, just a few dances before you had to head on to the castle and finally meet Zelda wouldn't hurt, right?

"Pardon me," Came the soft, musical tone of your new partner, spiriting you away from Twilight with a small smile as he excused himself to find WIld and hopefully some refreshments.

At least that was what you thought, before almost having your heart jump out of your throat by Queen Zelda Vespera Hyrule herself entering the ring of dancers, taking you as a partner.

"Your-"

She spun you around with a hum, you almost struggled to keep up in your shock thought thankfully she held you steady, dark, ash inked hair held steady in a braided crown, looseing around her shoulders and eyes vibrant with vaguely masked cerulean amusement as she shook her head, the lanterns casting burning gold upon her irises, "No need for that. I'd rather my presence not be announced. I thought I'd meet you and Link halfway, away from the court." Another twirl, and she sighs, understandingly, as regal as ever, her gloved palm upon yours warm as you are sure your face is, "He's expressed dislike for the castle in the past and I cannot blame him for such, it's only fair I find him first then, after all he's done for us."

You are briefly separated, as you digest the information and reeling from the surprise, it makes sense. None of the Link's were overly fond of Hyrule Castle and Twilight was no exception, with the nobles who minimally contributed to anything yet demanded reward or for their schemes to be enabled and the complacent knights, easily swayed by the honeyed words of vipers and who were useless in the face of true danger even during the invasion, none of your boys - even Warriors who learned how to swim or drown in that mess - felt comfortable there. You can't imagine it wasn't similar for Dusk, even growing up among them.

... She did seem very lonely, even back then.

You dance back into her arms, nodding easily as you take her in, with her hair braided in white ribbons and cream, ruffled poet's shirt and lightly heeled riding boots, she really did look just like any other young woman out for a night of festival fun, albeit breathtakingly beautiful just the same, "Alright then, would Zelda be fine then?"

Her smile was radiant, as bright as the lanterns in the plaza in contrast to her shaded lips, voice soft like the whisper of a breeze through autumn leaves, "It's perfect, I'm so glad to finally be able to meet you personally." She twirls you, and you laugh as it transitions into an unexpected dip, the disguised queen giggling in turn and it's soft and fluttering, "Link's letters don't do you full justice, the flesh is much more captivating than the imagination."

"Says the Queen of Hyrule," You snipe back, hoping to all being's holy in this land and the realms beyond that you are not flushing crimson enough to outshine the lanterns, you briefly catch a glimpse of Twilight, standing somewhere just beyond the dancers and sipping on an apple cider, you lock eyes and you briefly tilt your chin to Zelda, 'So. This is the Queen of Hyrule. HELP?!'

He briefly looks you over, seemingly studying the situation, then gives you a wolfish smirk at whatever he saw, 'Have fun.' He mouths, taking a long swig.

'Traitor.' You hiss in your thoughts because turns out you are NOT well equipped to handle Hylian Royalty suddenly sweeping you off your feet (literally) without ample preparation and your only hope of composing yourself clearly wasn't going to help, so you smile and continue on, "I'm hardly that much, but thank you, y- Zelda."

"Nonsense," She primly answers, before you switch partners once more, to the left, then back to Dusk, and back again, she tilts her head, humming contemplatively, "Would you mind showing me around the festival? I'm sure Link won't mind if I steal you for a couple moments."

You chuckle, "I hardly know Castle Town all that well myself, I doubt I'd be a good guide." And that's true, you've only seen it distantly, during Twilight's adventure, it could hardly compare to the real thing.

She smiles, somethibg soft and beautiful and sharp with amusement, eyes glinting like clouded aquamarine, rhodedendron eargerness and hydrangea beautiful, "Then I suppose we'll just explore it together then, shall we go?"

"We shall." You answer back, after all, it's not everyday you can say you went to a festival with a Zelda.

She links her arm with yours, grip tight and warm.

(Later, although not much later, Twilight will meet Dusk at Telma's.

She had not even seen you on the way, though she had been looking forward to your meeting.)

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow Day 6

Shadow Beast

The Twilight Princess fan in me really came out on this one huh? I blame the sleep deprivation. We never quite addressed the effects of the Twili Magic on Twilight and how it's only sheer force of will and the fact he's so darn kind, Midna's influence and Time teaching him the Song of Healing first being the main factor in making sure he doesn't fall huh? Even more so than the One Cutscene. We also need to talk more about the fact we technically kill Midna's people and how by the end of it all Twi is so changed by the Twilight Realm who's it's own can of worms that, much like Time he can't quite go home as himself me thinks, as a treat to myself

Mostly Twilight x Reader, this goes out to all of the folks who never quite recovered from Twilight Princess and the fact we never got that sequel (I mean it gave us BOTW and TOTK and Wild, but at what cost?), but can be read as Link x Reader either on the platonic or romantic.

Don't think there's any warning this time but might edit later if needed.

Actually yeah there is one warning

TW:

References to body horror typical to Twilight Princess, though I recommend not reading it I'd you're squeamish period.

Even after so long, you and Twilight could still remember the beauty and solemnity of the Twilight Realm, with it’s zircon skies with clouds of trapped fire and rains of viper obsidian.

The silence of the infection upon the realm of light broken only by the echoes of the howling elegy of the Twili and Interlopers who came before creeping over the land like rot and wither over flowers, the lament of the lost spirits of the people and animals of Hyrule falling over your spirit like a shroud, a shared hymm from two worlds reality had been twisted, only both of it’s princess, one filled the luster of empyreal sorrow in her mind and one with the scorch abyssal fury in her heart knowing to see the reflective tragedy befallen to their people. With Link as the one who restored the memory of what once was in both worlds as divinity and calamity sang in his bones and you a witness to the restoration of harmony to the discordant symphony, the two different songs of light and shadow refusing to let go of either of you in an eternal duet.

(Once touched by magic, it shall never leave the one if holds onto Twilight may have been the one with the Beast in his soul, with the howl of a wolf, the bite of shades in his veins and the lament of innocents taking precedence over anything purely because he learned how to silence the whispers of the one’s who made a grab for heaven’s throat and we’re pushed in the cracks of reality for their prideful vánitas even as he could taste it in the back of his tongue, twining around his ribs and overgrowing into his shattered mirror heart like vines, flowering with the divinity and eternal nature of the Hero’s Spirit, already having the hunt of the Fierce Deity in it’s veins and the remains of cursed divinity welcoming the new aspect merrily so he could bear it. The song of the innocent wrongly punished among the sinners rang into your mind, scratched at your skin and dug it’s claws around your throat, chocking you with sorrow and regret, more willing to leave gouges than to let go of someone’s who’s looked into the reverse side of the sacred realm and wept with grief for it’s people and the curse of it’s beauty.

It would never leave you, Link or Zelda, who learned who love the darkness the way Midna did, madness and unsightly delight and all.)

While the people of Hyrule merely became trapped as observers at best, if they were lucky, Midna’s raging grief and resentment quickly became obvious, once she revealed that rotten Zant had done to her and her people, twisted into a new form, distorted in body and trapped in mind like the animals and beasts of Hyrule, their pain driving them in becoming feral attack hounds for the usurper, their howling screams as much sorrow, wailing in an attempt to let their agonized, tortured souls to escape from it’s mouth, a futile attempt to flee from the strain of reality forgetting their true form in favor of Zant’s twisted design, of being used as sentient canvases for cruelty and ruthlessness, of their will being stepped over in favor of corrupting recreation.

Of how it only didn’t quaff down at Midna’s mind because of the nature of her ephemerality, fully beloved by the Realm of Darkness, of how she loathed him for it and wouldn’t wish her fate of that of her people’s on any living or dead soul, once she came to love the Realm of Light through Zelda’s sacrifice.

Which was why, when you saw three of the victims of the telltale twisting from darkness utilized with the intent to drive one insane, a familiar looking plate of stone engraved on the remains of ashes from their identity, the curling of distorted, solid darkness making crooked mishapen manes, bent out of shape from their too long torso and long, long arms adorned with twitching, deformed claws, you feel very justified in way your blood froze, holding onto Wild’s arms and yanking with all you had so his shot will miss, his yelp of surprise swallowed by the bone cracking, blood curdling screech from one of the beasts as a Skyward Strike grazed it’s petrified flesh.

You feel something warm drip down your ears, taste the promise of violence and the cry of lost souls on the back of your tongue and swallow it down as the memory of the Twilight Realm attempted to bite and crack your ribcage to quaff down your heart, to devour it bones and all, calling out in desperation, “Don’t! That’s a person!”

Sky freezes, as still as a statue, Legend curses the heavens crimson in a way you are so glad Wind isn’t around to hear as he retreats Twilight snarls, the wolf in him revolted and disgusted, you wonder if the Twilight is singing in his mind too as he restrains himself from reaching for the crystal as nails just a tad too sharp invite droplets of blood to one hand, grimm as a graveyard “We need to get them together anyway, felling just one won’t be enough.”

You grimace, releasing Wild, keeping your eye on the Shadow Beasts and another on your group, pointedly not mentioning the twitch in Four, amethyst clouding his gaze and the prism of his eyes turning gray with memories you and Twilight both knew all too well, of the grimace in Time’s otherwise stony countenance, you’d wished to avoid bloodshed of whoever was turned against their will, but you and Twilight both knew that might not be possible, death, unfortunately, might be the greatest mercy you can grant these poor souls.

(The Twilight is harmonizing in your ears, jeering, you feel the Interlopers insanity and the Twili’s lament on your teeth. As lovely as it could be cruel, the merry feeling upon meeting, the sorrow at a parting.

If you ever see the Shadow, you might just try indulging the echo by offering it’s blood as tribute. You'd make it hurt. The fact it learned the spell used to deform reality in such a way was cruel and vile.)

“Legend, how is your magic?” shoots Warriors, analyzing, calculating, it snaps the purple back into Four’s gaze, brings his mind back to focus as he reaches into his inventory for his Moon Pearl, Twilight is circling the beasts with single minded purpose, herding them together and prowling as he would as a wolf, Wild thankfully listened to your warning and had switched from the more destructive Flame and Lightning Arrows to ice ones. It doesn’t contain them for long but it gives a few precious seconds to strategize.

Legend catches on, switching to the Ice Rod on one hand and grasping his own Moon Pearl with the other, Sky has another Skyward Strike ready, but doesn’t release it, you switch from your sword to accepting a Magic Rod tossed at you from Wild, “Good enough.”

You breath in shakily, the symphony of the Twilight Realm has quieted, more lament than anthem as it’s Hero steps back, returning to your side, he nods grimly, “... Then, let’s end this quickly.”

You know your will boys will do their best to heal them, and failing that, you hope that they’ll hear the requiem of the Twili rather than the lament once they’re at peace, that they'll find some form of threnody.

It is a horrible thing, to be forced to die as a beast.

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow Day 5

Master Kohga

*slams this down* LATE AND WITH ONE HECK OF A HEADACHE BUT I MADE IT!

Also I feel like we also need to talk about that the reason the Yiga are such doofuses usually is because they're riding the high of a full 100 years victory, and that after getting throughly kicked in the ribs they're probably gonna commit more crimes and probably return to their even more brutal roots actually, Kogah probably being the most likely one to shift to that first.

This goes out to you Warriors fans and simps, because ooh boy is he a delight to write, I think the duality of his name and status as a soldier is neat even if he's not my favorite Link.

Though the regular Linktober one will have to wait after I'm a bit more rested though so either later today or tomorrow, sorry folks.

Also uh warnings ahead?

TW:

Some descriptions of violence, specifically wrist targeted violence, kidnapping, and Reader going a little feral in defense of Warriors, nothing too big, but as this is coming from a horror fan I advise anyone who is squeamish to skip this one.

On a scale of one to ten of intimidation wrought by enemies of the Chain has faced, you’re pretty sure Kohga and the Yiga wouldn’t make even a negative ten on a normal day.

You’re not sure if it’s due to Wild’s most blase attitude about having a literal clan of traitorous, murderous Sheikah at him, a mix of bafflingly phlegmatic and elated with amused delight when talking about schemes you’d more associate to slapstick comedy than anything, the way you’ve seen any Yiga members dive for any throw bananas like a starving Wolfos pack on a lone Stalfos even if there was a cliff right in front of them with even more single minded determination than what was given to their mission, the way he’d refer to them as “Look they’re technically insane menaces to polite society out for mine and Flora’s blood, but they’re our technically insane menaces to polite society out for our blood” with a mix of bemusement and amusement or a mix of all three but according to the resident cook they truly weren’t a threat compared to, say, the cultists of Hyrule’s time whose sole goal wasn’t even to kill him but simply make him bleed, or Majora whom indirectly inflicted endless torture on Time, or Demise who literally started the cycle all of your heroes inevitably went through (because you could never blame Sky, none of you would even if it took shaking the notion into his thick skull). And they’ve apparently gone even more docile and to ground after Wild had defeated their master.

“And THEN he apparently has the nerve to go through our base and raid our banana supply! The nerve of that pesky, insistently annoying pest- Hey, are you even listening?” The sudden call made you jump, hissing as your wrist restraints dug into your skin, because apparently shackles with spikes on the inside of them are a thing and you very much would not have liked the approximate feeling of barbed wire wedged into your skin, biting into your flesh with all the viciousness and brutality that ensured you wouldn’t move your hands without feeling agony, the tone indignant as the presumably dead man stomped his foot nearby, “This is serious! First he peels me and my clan members like a banana, greatly exaggerates the rumor of my death and then THIS?!”

You school your features, trying really, really hard not to act out again as it comes down dangerously close onto Warrior’s unconscious head. Nodding along with the seriousness and solemnity worthy of a funeral, “Talk about the pot calling the kettle black! Such disrespect, at least you guys didn’t exaggerate about his death. And you’re supposed to be the bad guys here?”

(Well, more like you couldn’t move, really, funny thing about spikes on one’s skin and having one of your legs broken to the point glancing at exposed bone makes you want to dry heave at the gory sight, it.is.agony. Funny, how pain is an effective restraint in keeping people pinned down better than any arrow.)

You quickly revised your opinion and reassess the threat given the situation you're in now, as after your patrol on Wild’s Hyrule with Warriors you’d gotten ambushed and kidnapped through a mix of a double Silver Lynel ambush and sheer element of the surprise as bait, Warriors going down protecting you with all of the ferocity of his namesake, and choosing to risk getting a little roughed up over being separated from him.

You’re quite proud of yourself really, what with the way that you almost fully tore a chunk out of a Blademaster’s throat with your teeth and before they gave up, leg broken and with the spikes on your wrist as you woke up first with the fury of Volvagia’s fire scorching your veins, overwhelming the icy chill of terror in your veins and only instinct driving you because who knows what they’d done to him. Worth it. You wouldn’t forgive yourself if you let something happen to your favorite soldier boy. At least now you’re both in the same place, even if it’s with the man running the doomsday show himself.

“I know right?! Once I get my hands on that little nuisance, I am going to kill him dead!”

It’s a bit of a pity, in a way. You’re sure that under better circumstances you’d be as amused as Wild by him and he’d be a lovely conversation partner, you doubt the Yiga would follow him if he wasn’t charismatic after all, like watching a wet cat get their head stuck in a jar you had to admit watching the man struggle and fail was just a bit hilarious.

Alas by the whims of the gods spinning the wheel of fate and making it be fully comprised of misfortune to the point you really would like to have a nice chat involving your fists and their faces and maybe one foot straight up Hylia's gash, twas not to be, but it works in your favor. You just needed to stall for as long as you could until Warriors woke up or had an opening stop feigning sleep, either works.

“I just had a thought, a truly magnificent idea worthy of someone as worthy of being the Calamity’s most trusted champion! You travel with that twerp and his companions don’t you?”, the man stilled, then swerved towards you, you contained a flinch in a sudden movement, just on the edge of cartoony, adamantly looking over his shoulder rather than the twisted, crimson eye of the cold mask of the leader of the people who joked about keeping one of Warriors’ eyes as a necklace for it worked just as well as gem, “You could work for us instead, we’d pay you quite well for the information.”

Adamantly trying not to look at Warrior’s behind him, you hummed, head tilted, pretending to think about it, then shrugging, “Eh, I’ll pass. You Yiga don’t take well to traitors no?”

The man crossed his arms, adamantly nodding, “Of course not! Any and all who forsake our god should be slowly watch as their body parts are fed to Moldugas while they’re still alive!”

Cool, cool, lovely imagery to have, you were going to have one serious talk with Wild about proper threat assement once you’re back in camp by the way. You smile a bit back, remembering Warrior’s and using it as a reason to force a grimace away. Of the way he could charm better than any prince, making people fall in love with him effortlessly for better or worse and how you or Legend would viciously defend him from the worse crowd even if it gave you both Time’s exasperation (and grief from the other Links, who are all menaces whom you wished were less perceptive at times). Of the way he amusedly shared with you he main advantage was that no one could ever tell wether he was being friendly or baring his teeth, and how he slowly let you notice wether the curve was sharp or soft as you got closer. Making a point of showing your bloody, bloody teeth from both the Blademaster and which dripped down your head from one heck of a Lynel kick, you did not have Warriors natural charisma but you’d make do with your mediocre charm. “Well, I’m not in the habit of liking traitors much either you see. Sorry to let you down on that, plus if I can turn on them I can turn on you right? Better we skip that, I can give you a banana cake and banana pretzel recipe from where I’m from as compensation though?”

(You did not, in fact, know a recipe for banana cakes and pretzels by the way, but at this point you'll say anything just to buy you more time. Nothing like the age old ancient technique of lying. Wars would be proud his lessons came in handy.)

To his credit, he didn’t flinch. You’d actually be a bit shocked if he did given his clans entire gimmick to be fair. Sliding away from Warrior’s prone form and towards the one actually open door, keeping his back to the soldier, although his attention immediately focused on you like a Guardians aim, completely missing the light twitch to Warriors’ fingers you could spot in the dim torch light, “Fair enough, though you’re missing out on a lot if you ask me. Now! Banana cake you say? Might you be a person of culture after all even with an horrendous choice of company?”

Would you look at that, looking like a horror show does have it’s advantages!

“I mean I’d write it down but you know,”, you make a vague motion with your wrists, wincing a bit at the spikes, those would be a pain to get out later, you’d much have preferred ropes or chains, “But if you get some paper or get me to a kitchen I can direct your folks how to make it? You’d be the first to get a taste of it if you’re there too.”

He hums, pacing back and forth, Warriors eyes lightly crack open, the sapphire clouding with shock at your state, you can’t look at him long enough to figure out the ensuing combination of emotions, flashing, but you do see when the gems are forged into cobalt blades, you quickly mouth to him ‘Get free’ as soon as Kohga isn’t looking at you, he closes his eyes as Kohga turns towards him and nods. Though the Poe flame azure of his gaze could have probably killed the leader of the Yiga ten times over as he addresses you, “You’re an awfully generous hostage aren’t you? Though I like the way you think.”

You shrug, “I mean I’m not being manhandled, plus I’m bored so why not make some good food to kill time?”

You can see him weight his options, unnervingly staring at you beneath the mask. You adamantly don’t look at Warriors’ as he slides his boot very lightly against the wall, a small blade springing from the small compartment, thanking the Three the Yiga didn’t check either of your shoes as he twists around as silently as he can manage to cut himself free as Kogah nods, “Anyone with an appreciation for bananas should be allowed to share their wisdom, can you walk?”

You give him a flat look, you think Warriors bites his tongue to keep from making an equally indignant sound as Kohga seems to have the dots, awkwardly coughing, “That was a retorical question of course you can’t! I shall however extend you my benevolence, and call on my subordinates to carry you-“

He doesn’t even get to finish his sentence when Warriors pounces with a snarl, you lurch back, hissing as the spikes make your wrists bleed and chocking down a shout at the pain that crawls through your leg like lightning, but it’s enough.

Warriors wraps the remains of his rope around the Yiga Clan Leader’s throat in a makeshift garrote, and make sure to use his momentum to slam his head against the cold, hard ground of the hideout, doing it again for good measure with all of the strength and ferocity you knew for a fact he kept as well sheathed as a hidden blade.

It all took but a second, he didn’t even scream. You doubt that killed him, but he isn’t getting back up any time soon.

You slump over, coughing blood from your mouth, it wouldn't help much but it was a start, “Welcome back to the land of the living, Wars.”

He rushes towards you as soon as he finishes tying Kohga up with the remnants of his own rope, gently wiping the blood from your sight, he was battered and bruised but the most beautiful thing you’ve seen in your life as he checked you over, and you couldn’t help but lean into his touch, relief ringing like a sword being sheathed, it would be alright. “Can’t say I’m happy to be fashionably late this time. What did they do to you?”

“Hey, none of that,” you gently touch your foreheads together, you smile, tasting rust on your lips though Warriors doesn’t mind as you lightly try to take his mind out of it, “You should see the other guy.”

He sighs, fondly exasperated as he shakes his head, you consider the quirk of his lips a win even as he pauses over your wrists, eyes flashing with rage before focusing on your leg, “I’m sure, that was a killer performance. Maybe after all this is over you should take up acting back home.”

You snort, “I mean I did learn from the best-“

it distracts you long enough for him to snap your leg back into place. And all you know is that you with pain, ripping through your throat as you finally, finally, feel safe enough to pass out.

(Warriors winces sympathetically, heart breaking a little at your pain but knowing it was the only way you wouldn’t focus on it, better than for . Holding you close and allowing you to muffle your scream into his shoulder as he wraps your leg in his scarf, guilty and fury carefully hidden behind the soldier mask, knowing that the only thing that would satisfy the flames of retribution in his chest would be to use the Yiga as kindling until they eventually burned the remnants of protective rage all away to ash.

But he could make do with taking you as gently as he could as you pass out in his arms, resolve himself to get the contraption on your wrists out as soon as you were both back at camp. And to kicking Kogah on the way out. It's not nearly enough but it's a start.

You protected him as best as you could, it’s his turn to return the favor as he can as well. Anything else can come later.)

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow Day 9

Wallmasters

*Downs cofffe like a shot* Also know as The One Where Legend Did Not Collaborate, and the reason all other prompts are late along with exam season so I'm not fully satisfied with it even with the Hollow Knight ost, the Link Between Worlds ost, tea and spite carrying this. Ah well, I'll just do my best to catch up and maybe rewrite it to give Legend more justice later, this is a self indulgent little series anyway. Having a lot of fun with the other prompts for both Linktober and Linktober Shadow. Legend is my second true Link (Time being the first and Twilight the second), so this goes out for him and his fans, he's such a complex Link and I shall do my best to do him proper justice in the future.

As always can be interpreted as either romantic or platonic, and before anyone asks yes I am making Reader gender neutral on purpose, whatever gender they are is up to ya'll lol.

Walking through Dungeons could be a fifty fifty experience.

On one hand, the loot was usually always good and it could be a pretty thrilling or simple experience, on the other hand, the danger was very, very real, between the monsters and many puzzles and traps, it sets every hero on edge, even if most weren’t used to the structure of dungeons all of them could recognize danger at every corner.

Which was why when hearing a faint skittering from the shadows of the abandoned ruins and seeing Legend twitching for his sword, you were immediately on alert, making sure to speak lowly and to keep yourself in his sights (it was a hard won crumb of knowledge, that Legend preferred to have any members of the group in his line of sight if possible, but easy enough to accommodate and you would not question it, didn’t need to), “Any guesses, hero?”

Legend pursed his lips, eyes flicking to the sides then the open fissures of the floor, undoubtedly leading either to a long way down to the previous floor or many broken bones – most likely the second really with a healthy heaping of painful death on top – and then above, cursing as he shoved you back against the doorway alcove with a grimace, “Wallmasters. You better be ready to book it for the chest when I tell you to, got it? I am not fighting my way back down just to drag you back up. We need to take those out if possible.”

You nodded,  grim as you tightened your grip onto your sword, you knew Legend wouldn't, he'd never be the one to leave someone first, but you could agree that getting separated in a dungeon with black blooded monsters in it was a recipe for disaster.

"One.", you squinted at the shadows above,  trying to make out the scratching of long, sharp claws over stone, vision wasn't always the most reliable sense in the dark.

"Two." Legend's grip on the fire rod shifted, more used to spotting these things than you are, you'll just have to follow your reliable veteran's lead.

"Go!" He snapped, and you didn't hesitate, the door was locked so you'd need the key as urgently as possible-

You jump to the side, a 'SLAM!' rocking the dungeon floor to it's foundations, you slash away at a nearby keese swarm with a curse as Legend sets the Wallmaster alight. It doesn't scream but it does shudder, nails racking over the floor with an awful, cutting sound, leaving black gouges that you are sure you'd hate to be touched by, "Any others?!"

Legend flicks his gaze up,  switching to his sword a heartbeat later  to his other hand and slashing at the smaller hands which rose from the death of it's progenitor, their nail rake over his sword with a screech and bones crunch over his boot, "Not yet, go grab the key!"

You don't need to hear it twice,  quickly kicking the chest open with no hesitation, grabbing the key. You hiss as one of the smaller hands escape one of Legend's guard and make a grab for your ankle, it's claws sink into your flesh and it hurts like hell but you persevere, making a break for the door. As soon as you open it you can work on dealing with the blood and undoubtlety quickly rotting flesh.

A second 'SLAM!' rocks the ground, Legend snarls, cutting through the second Wallmaster with a lot more difficult than he ought to, when it's blood comes black,  backing off from the crawling hands, conserving as much magic as he can as the hand returns to the  ceiling, dripping ink down into the ground, "An exit any second now would be really nice you know!"

"I'm working on it Din damnit!" You growl back, slotting the key into the slot and bashing your leg agaisnt an uneven leg, it hurts but it also hurts the hand, letting you go with a sickening crack of bone, you twist the key and hear the tell tale click of a lock opening, you turn back to Legend with a relieved breath, "Quick, come help me open it!"

Legend nods, baring his teeth back in a smirk as he helps you push open the door, black blood drips in front of you both, making his blood freeze.

"GET BACK!", He hollers, tackling you down into the ground, you both go through the door with a curse, your head almost cracking against the solid, old brick floor if not for Legend's hand, the space where you both were shakes as the wounded Wallmaster comes down, curls it's slashed fingers into a loose fist, as much as it could when burned and slashed.

All is silent, and you both finally breath at ease, Legend offering his hand to you with a sigh, "Come on, let's get out of this thrice damned dungeon already. Make sure not to keel over on me."

You accept, scoffing, hip checking him as soon as you're up, "As if I'd let you have all the fun, Leg."

You and him, however, wholeheartedly agree in your shared hatred of Wallmasters.

If you don't call out the shaking of Legend's hand when he pulled you up, or the hint of red on his face or the way you both stick close to one another as you continue through the dungeon. You'll just chalk it up to poor visibility and the want to not be separated.

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Shadow, Day 4

Lost

I feel like we really need to talk more about how the Lost Woods are a concept as beautiful as it is terrifying actually.

Wild/BOTW/TOTK Link fans, this one's for you and brought by my severe sleep deprivation, enough caffeine to kill a grown woman with less spite and my medieval literature/narrative/poetry teacher who motivated me through the entire creative process via helping me throw ideas at the wall even as all of the essays I gotta turn in are going to make me late in posting Sage. *laughs hysterically, immediately collapses*

As always can be read as romantic or platonic, and it's up to interpretation what's going down on this one. And can also be read in or outside of an LU context, I'm leaving it vague both on purpose and because of sleep deprivation lol.

Of all places you could say you most intimately did not wish to be alone after being separated from the Chain, the Lost Woods of literally any era but specially Wild’s would definitely be on your top three at a pristine number one.

Really, if you weren’t currently being stalked through the darkened, shadowed weald of the once welcoming evergreen home of both the Minish and Kokiri, whom you knew could be much, much more beautiful lovely (it did aid in raising a good chunk of your beloved heroes, after all) and with your heart working with all the urgency of a wounded deer being chased by a wolf. You’d almost commend it for it’s choice in setting this time.

Keyword being almost, for it compared naught to the sheer and utter terror that burned through your every sinew, marrow and veins at the accuracy of that statement, and the implication that your nebulous and hauntingly familiar current hunter grew ever more clever each passing second of your adventure.

You ran, ran and ran through the living woods, trying desperately to find any possible landmark, an oddly shaped tree, one of the torches or the remain of the skeletons from the old, ruined iterations of the Temple of Time from long bygone eras that the forest had reclaimed, or the hint of the breeze soft whispers from the echoes of the Kokiri or the elated branch rattle giggling laughter of the Skull Children. At this point you’d take even the the mad, beast like howling of the Stalfos or the tortured wailing of Poes, somewhere between vesania tainted laughter and the primal, feral pleading for one’s survival that shook you to the marrow.

There was no such symphony now, the woods as silent as a grave.

(The hauting ground of so, so many that it did not love or could not hold onto anymore, whispered a corner of your mind, and it sounded like the Shadow, with it’s ominous phlegmatic hissing, twisted amusement and sadistic brutality all in one.)

Your arm had long gone numb, broken under the impossible force held by the beast of sulfur and obsidian that the world itself rebelled against warring at it’s very existence as it roared it’s wrath back at it, the Goddesses, Hylia and Demise and your heroes and princesses caught in the middle of divine design, your legs giving out under the weight of your exhaustion, you tasted copper from the wound on your head dripping down your lips but that did not stop you. Would not stop you, couldn’t stop you.

You grit your teeth so hard against the shout that wanted to tear it’s way out of your throat as you barely kept yourself from hitting your head, diverting your momentum against an old, lonely tree. Your blood sinking into the wood, good, better it than Dark Link.

You were tired, you were exhausted, you swore you could hear a growl among the melancholy of the mist. You hoped the shade did not manage to track you down as you made sure not to leave a trail of blood, but something tells you that it wouldn’t need it to track you even with the faint moonlight barely giving enough aid in your own quest to find it before it found you with your only, laughable weapon being an old arrow you’ve pilfered from a long decomposed corpse almost falling from your white knuckled grip.

You didn’t want to die, you needed to survive.

You though of the Chain, your lovely, chaotic, kind boys, of Sky’s ever ecompassing kindness and Four’s brilliant cleverness, Time’s quiet comfort and Legend’s fierce hidden gentleness and Wind’s trailblazing joy, Hyrule’s tender sweetness and Warrior’s warm protectiveness and Wild’s beautiful adoration for life.

You missed them, and it was likely you wouldn’t see them again, that more than anything hurt more than all of your wounds combined.

You try to push yourself up, to move, to live, to keep moving forward, caring not for the stillness of the glade. Barely noticing the sudden silence as you almost pitched forward once again, stumbling onto the earth as your grip onto your makeshift weapon finally gave out-

Only for a pair of arms to catch you, steady, magnolias and rosemary, petrichor from untamed, ancient Hyrule. A bright Sheikah cerulean tunic and a navy cloak falling over darkned boots.

You freeze, hands twitching, it couldn’t be an illusion. You’ve seen plenty in the corner of your eye as you traversed through the woods, attempting to lead you astray. None of them were solid, many of them weren’t quite as cold as this, whoever was holding you.

But it couldn't be real either, it shouldn't.

“Link...?”, came your tired rasp, you felt as if you’ve swallowed sand (briefly, you wondered if the taste of flowers on the back of your tongue mixing with the copper of the liquid of life in your veins was the reason. Then resolved yourself not to think about it), your traitorous body succumbing to exhaustion as the stranger gently held you up (friend, friend, but it couldn’t be, Wild tried to hold onto you, the memory of his desperation scorching under your eyelids like a brand and his howl of denial mixed with self loathing would haunt your for days to come, maybe months, he was far away and hopefully safe, it couldn’t be him).

The figure merely steadied you against themselves, silent as they swung you into their arms, you briefly struggled. It was instinct to put up a fight, to push against the liminal illusion cruelly meant to haunt your possible last moments as another soon to be lost souls chest, or heck for all you knew it could be the Shadow, dragging it out, playing with your torment as it gave you scraps of hope before taking it away. The figure paused, only to gently readjust you -painfully careful as the memory of the gentleness belonging to your Champion but oh so wrong made your heart ache-, the figure lowly speaking, their tone the emerald eternity of the kingdom’s fields and like setting stitches against your wounded self, like the soothing nature of early autumn rain. Almost a whisper, cracked like the wind through the leaves.

“... Rest. You’ll be alright.”

You wanted to protest, wanted to claw and fight and bite his throat off just in case even if you weren’t sure it would take, as with your head in the crook of his hood you couldn’t hear a heartbeat, but your exhaustion won out in the end. Held in the warmth of the sun over Faron Woods with the glimpse of fierce cerulean blue, the gaze of a reynard whom a part of you knew wouldn’t give you up without a fight and safer than you felt since getting pounced through that cursed portal.

When you next came to, it was to Wild’s frantic worry at the edges of camp, his hair like a frazzled shroud as he dropped everything in hand of his watch to check on your now wrapped wounds. Hugging you tight as you held him just as close back.

This time, you found a heartbeat, and you could almost weep with relief, and in the darkness of the woods a shrouded shade smiled.

Returning to the mist unseen and unheard. But content you were home.

[summertimemusician]

Linktober Day 3

Friend

Short drabble once again because my notebook has decided to give up the good fight but my phone isn't down for the count yet.

Showcasing how I'm not over the fact that Fi and Shadow Link (specially the Four Swords Manga iteration) are technically the One constant all of the Links all but share and how people don't talk about it enough. And also my way to cope over rereading the Four Swords Adventures Manga again and my denial over Shadow being gone.

In the late hours of the night, you liked to talk to Fi and Shadow.

You weren’t sure if they could listen, not really, Sky said she fell asleep after his journey and First confirmed it soon after he joined the Chain, with the most heartbreakingly saddest smile, not quite grieving, but not quite ready to let go as -out of perhaps Legend- they were the ones who handled it with the most care. An echo and reflection of the way Four couldn’t quite look at mirrors without the rainbow in his eyes becoming more visible, almost gray in the shared grief in his mind and would say naught when questioned about it, choosing to deflect rather than clarify.

‘An eternal dream.’ was how vaguely how it had been described should anyone ask, ‘Not death in a way that matters, but... Close, almost enough to count.’

So over time, as you remained awake for your shifts once you’ve grow closer to the Chain, once you proved yourself as someone who could keep up and stand their ground, and a friend and a confidant over many, many sleepless nights and laughter and adversity, you couldn’t help but want to include them too as the rest of the Chain went to sleep and your watch time came. Usually masking it as telling stories or singing to either Wolfie or Epona.

You knew First knew, you were absolutely sure Sky was aware as the one who held the Sword that Seals Darkness the most, and that Four was onto you whenever you leaned somewhere nearby where his shade was cast.

Given as none of them called you out on it, you didn’t see any reason to stop.

(You couldn’t hear Fi the way they could, couldn’t tell the subtle shifts in the shadows under warm firelight the way Four had grown used to as Vio, but some times, you swore you could listen to an accompanying chime in duet, or catch the glimpse of the mirage of a smile

It wasn’t much, but it was enough.)