underwaterocean

[itcantbe]

I haven't posted art in ages and when I do it's a hasty drawing of that picture of Zendaya and Tom Holland as BOTW Link and Zelda. But I saw far too many comments saying the vibes of that photo were zelink to let it slide I guess.

(try to ignore the ghost of Zendaya's hair behind Zelda there 😅)

[alwaysunderwaterocean]

Look at them 😭 they are perfect

[linktheacehero]

Zelinktine's Month Day 6 - Movies

I'm back ;) and with day 6 of Zelinktine's Month!

She fell asleep while they were watching How to Train your Dragon

Prompt below the cut! Until we meet again *disappears*

[alwaysunderwaterocean]

Look how sweet they are 😭

[pastelsandpining]

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

This is my piece for the Zelinktines event! It has a part two incoming, so I hope you all enjoy!

Summary: Link decided to lift Zelda’s spirits with some letters.

Words: 5k

Iteration: Twilight Princess

Prompts under the cut!

Keep reading

[alwaysunderwaterocean]

😭 😭 you are the yee to my haw, this is precious and wonderfully written!

[alwaysunderwaterocean]

Zelinktine's Month Day 1 - Roses

It's ZELINKTINE'S MONTH and I get the honor of being Day 1: Roses! Me and my magnificent friends over on discord are going to spoil you this month and this is just the beginning. I hope you enjoy this little oneshot and all its fluffy tinted sadness! WC: 3545

She had an hour. Only an hour to tend to the garden that had been her companion for as long as she remembered. She could once spend an entire afternoon with her fingers laced between the growing vines as she rested in the soft shade its blooms provided, reading slowly from her favorite novels as castle life bustled all around her, unaware and uncaring of how its crown Princess was spending her time. If she closed her eyes she could almost envision her mother as she had once been sitting beside her long ago, teaching her the unique wants and needs of each plant as they rooted in the soil at their feet; which needed more sun and which thrived in the shadows of others or how to thread their vines around the trellises that lined the outside rows. It was a piece of her that lived on well past the day she’d joined them in the soil below before Zelda herself had even had a chance to blossom.

Though the plot where the great Queen now rested bloomed with what once had been her most treasured flowers, nothing would grow from her death but a bitter emptiness that sat across Hyrule like a drought. Her untimely exit would ultimately drain the life from her once blossoming kingdom as the King she left behind failed to flourish where she had prospered. He ruled with much less grace than she had, leaving a bruise in the hearts of their people who were used to her tenderness and the natural ease with which she had led them. Though no one felt the weight of her absence quite like Zelda.

Her mother's passing had left her frightfully alone in a world that expected her to wield the same Goddess given power she had seemingly found so effortlessly. But where her mother had the guidance of the powerful women who had come before her to help her hone her gifts, Zelda had no one other than a father who believed more fervently day by day that she simply wasn't trying hard enough. So he’d taken from her every activity that had once brought her joy and replaced it with a rigorous religious training that would only serve to break her further. As a result, her time spent in the safety of her inherited garden was slim, though she snuck away as often as she could.

She sighed as she thumbed at the petals of the bushes before her, checking their elasticity to ensure they’d been watered enough, despite her inability to care for them as she once had. She picked up the watering can at her feet and showered the soil where they grew, watching as the thirsty earth grew dark as it drank what she provided. It was easy work that yielded linear results, unlike many other facets of her life, and the simple act of working towards their prosperity was enough to soothe her battled mind on the days she was able to attend to it.

“These need to be watered more frequently,” she said mostly to herself as she thumbed at the drying leaves and touched the bulbs fighting to open with what little the skies had offered them while she’d been away.

She waited until she was content with the moisture of the ground underneath her, turning to her silent companion who had been trailing her the entire time, as quiet as the petals that twirled in the breeze around them, content to allow her the peace her time there provided without feeling the need to insert himself into it.

“Is it time to go already?”

Her eyes gave away what her words did not as they lifted to meet his own, as soft and blue as they ever were. He stayed there for a moment, taking in the melancholy in her gaze as if he were trying to expose a way he could free her from it. But they both knew better. He was just as bound as she was to the shackles of prophecy that had brought them together and in the end, it would be both of them who would fail if she didn’t unmask her power soon. There was only so much he could do with the sword alone, they needed one another. And so far, he’d been carrying the weight of success all on his own. Yet there he was, allowing her to slip away yet again from her duties in order to indulge her own interests without any hint of disapproval to be found.

“It’s alright, we can stay a while,” he offered, even leaning his fabled sword against the outside fence in favor of extending his hand to her own.

She took it softly, quietly grateful he’d gone without his gloves in the mild spring weather so that she could feel his skin against hers.

“Do you need any help?”

She followed the length of his arm until she’d found her way to his chest, pressing her cheek against the fabric of the tunic she’d spun him herself and listening as the rhythm of his heartbeat increased at their closeness while he let his remaining arm wrap loosely around her waist. He’d shown unparalleled bravery in the face of great danger more times than she could count and was revered amongst the others in the guard for his ability to bring down slews of beasts that would often take entire units to conquer. He was the Hero who wielded the Master Sword, the Hylian Champion, and the youngest soldier to ever climb the ranks of knighthood. Yet she could end him with a single stroke of her hand along his cheek or a whispered word in his ear. It was a soft victory for the Princess who had yet to find her own valor, even as darkness crept ever closer.

“We should go or they’ll come looking for me.”

It was his turn to sigh as he held her closer, determined to keep her in her place of security if only a little longer before duty found them both back in the prayer room that had been her prison for the better part of a year now.

“It’s not fair.”

She released him and looked upon the heavy tilt in his brow, the downward turn of the pout that had taken over his lower features, and couldn’t help but find herself mimicking his sorrowful expression. He so rarely allowed his mask to break, always the brave hero for the people who had chosen to place their hope where they knew it wouldn’t be lost. But the closer they’d grown, the more she’d discovered that she was just as much a haven for him as he was to her. It hurt him profoundly to see her throw herself into devotion only to be turned away empty handed yet again, or to stand silently as her father berated her for damning their kingdom because of it. He’d offered to whisk her away into the wilds more than once, but they both knew her obligation to her bloodline forced her to stay and the sword on his back branded him as much of a servant to the kingdom as she was.

He was the only one who saw her as she was and not who she was meant to be. The only one that bent to better accommodate her needs rather than forcing her to fit into the agenda of others, whether or not it brought her harm. They’d found a sense of solidarity in the other; a sanctuary where they may safely lay bare everything they must keep hidden from the world that relied on them for its very survival.

“Life hardly is for us, is it?” She ended her thought with a feather light kiss to his cheek before encouraging him to begin the walk out of her gardens, “Will you still be by for supper later? If my father doesn’t drag me into his office again.”

“Of course.”

She knew she didn’t have to ask. He’d cancel everything if it meant being near her. She just wanted to hear him say it. To fill herself with the knowledge that her existence meant more than just her failures, if only to him. She turned to give him a smile that he mirrored as they left the shelter of the garden and set their stony exteriors that marked them as Princess and Hero as they made the long walk back into the prayer room yet again.

—

So it went for weeks and day by day Zelda found herself neglecting the garden that had once brought her joy, sometimes even going days without offering it any care. Her prayers only became more strenuous as her father’s desk filled with more reports of the malice that was slowly creeping into their land and she found what little energy she had left after her devotions was spent tucked into Link’s arms in her study as he offered to read to her the novels she didn’t have the spirit to move through herself anymore. He wasn’t as quick of a reader as she was, but just hearing the words as they traveled through his chest was as much a comfort to her as any. Most nights she drifted off there and sometimes he did too, waking the next morning with a stiff neck as he slept hunched over her curled form.

On one such morning, Zelda would rise before him. Though the entire castle knew of their growing closeness, he was still expected to maintain some level of propriety and would likely be scolded quite heavily by the King if they were to discover them pressed against the other as they were. He typically would attempt to sneak away before sunrise so that he could be seen exiting his own chambers at the start of the new day, leaving the nosey castle goers none the wiser and her father equally unaware. But there he still was, the folds of her linens pressed into his blushed cheeks as he lightly snored alongside the chirping of the morning birds.

She turned carefully, without letting herself become uncaged by his arms, so that she could rest her own cheek against him and trace the lines of his other hand that he had draped across his abdomen in his sleep. She watched as it lazily lifted up and down with each breath, the tips of his knuckles just catching the early light that cut though the high windows. Though as she lazily traced down the soft skin on the back of his hand, she felt a series of small cuts which instantly triggered the more analytical parts of her brain. It wasn’t uncommon for him to have small injuries, but these were unlike any she’d seen on him before. They were shallow, some with small punctures that tapered into thin lines as if he’d pricked himself on something and pulled away, yet gone back again to earn more.

She began shuffling slightly in the sheets so that she could get a better view, leaning over him so that she could see them in their entirety. He stirred when she did, letting out a soft groan as his eyes rolled under his still closed lids, almost as if his body were protesting coming out of the relaxed state it was in. Not wanting to wake him any further, she stilled completely, letting her hand freeze above his where she’d been examining it. With a long sigh, he seemed to settle back to sleep and only then did she continue her investigation.

What had he been doing that would have caused such marks? He was with her more often than not and surely she would have noticed if he’d hurt himself on something, even if he refused to admit it. He’d once worked a week with a broken arm before she had caught him favoring his other one, only allowing her to send him to have it set when she threatened not to share her dessert with him that evening. So it was unlikely he’d ever mentioned it to her in passing and she’d simply forgotten. It wasn’t as if they were anything serious and certainly didn’t require anything more than a salve she could grind together with ingredients she had in that very room, but the mystery of it bothered her all the same.

She squinted her eyes as the sun rose higher in the morning sky, sorting the catalogs of information in her brain in hopes of anything that may help her to explain them before needing to seek an outside source. Yet oddly, all she could think of was her mother, so she sat back on her heels beside his still slumbering form and allowed herself to indulge in the memory they brought forth.

—

“Careful darling, they are quite beautiful but not without bite. Here, put these on.”

The elegant woman lifted her small hands and carefully tucked them into a pair of leather gloves she’d fished from the pockets of her apron before doing the same to her own.

“Mama, why do the roses have to grow thorns?”

She knelt down as she brought a stem closer for her inspection.

“You may think of them as delicate, fragile things only meant to blossom for the benefit of their beauty. But these remarkable plants are quite the little warriors, you know.”

“Warriors?”

The Queen smiled as she reached into her apron again for her garden shears, measuring carefully where to cut the fully opened blossom.

“Oh, yes. This little greenery works hard to ensure that it thrives and it doesn’t want its artistry stolen, whether by a greedy creature to eat or a curious eye like ours to admire. So it grows these for its own protection. Remarkable, isn’t it?”

She carefully applied pressure to the small prickles that lined the now cut stem of the flower in her hand, keeping an eye on the child that was watching with intense curiosity only inches from where she worked. With only a slight push, the curved thorns fell to the ground below, leaving a now smooth surface. The much smaller Princess stood diligently still as her mother then gently tucked the stem behind her ear; earning a smile that was just as brilliant as the flower that now adored her instead of the bush it had been plucked from.

“Sometimes…the world may desire from you more than you are willing to give. But you must find a way to protect what it is within you that they feel they are entitled to. Always fight for yourself, my Princess. Even if you must be a little prickly,” she ended with a wink that left Zelda giggling as she reached up to feel the softness of the petals between her fingers.

—

The sun entering her study shone down upon her then with a renewed warmth as she cleared the bleariness from her eyes and studied his hand for a final time, now remembering with clarity where she’d seen the marks before. Careful not to wake him, she folded the quilt back around his still limp form and slipped from bed, following the fervor of her realization all the way across the long bridge that connected her private quarters to the castle and into the aisles of the garden she hadn’t seen for the past month.

Though she had nearly abandoned her once carefully manicured rows of flowers and shrubbery, instead of dried vines and crumbling petals she would find it as pristine as if it had never missed a day of care. Though the groundskeeper had offered her on multiple occasions to tend to it in her stead, there was some part of her that wouldn’t allow herself to accept the help, as if in doing so she would somehow fail at the hidden obligation she felt to her mother to keep alive the work she’d poured so much of her life into. Yet despite her weeks of absence, it was as beautiful as that day in her memory, each plant thriving like she’d been working on them herself, or as if someone who had watched her methods from right behind her the entire time had picked up where she had been forced to leave off.

She walked the stone path, letting her fingertips glide over the silky leaves of her flourishing flowers, admiring the way their blossoms opened up in the brilliant light of the morning sun. She smiled to herself as she pictured him sneaking off to water them or prune the dead leaves. The mighty Hero of Hyrule, carefully clipping hydrangeas. He’d left no detail untouched, even returning her tools to the same place and order she preferred to keep them in. She fisted her hand in the light fabric at her chest, trying and failing to hold back the tears that began to brim the edges of her eyes. While the others around her had been scrutinizing her every move and labeling her as incomplete, he’d simply been watching and learning her as she was so that he could provide even this small comfort, as meaningless as it would be to anyone else. But to her it was everything.

She wiped at her eyes with the edge of her sleeve as she reached the back wall of the garden, her cheeks rounding into another soft smile when she noticed the roses she’d been carefully weaving around a tall archway trellis were now in full bloom. He’d even taken the time to ensure he continued her work there as well, encouraging the climbing plant to wrap even taller around the structure. In only a few short weeks the entire arch would be covered, just as she’d planned. Before she could take a step forward to admire them closer, the sound of someone crashing down the path behind her had her turning on her heels.

“Zelda!”

When she spotted him, her smile only deepened. He seemed in a state of absolute panic, having not even stopped to slip on his boots. He stood there barefoot, the white linen of his sleep shirt softly rippling in the slight breeze as his chest heaved up and down. He ran towards her before she could answer him, swooping her into a relieved embrace that left his face squished into the curve of her neck as he worked to catch his breath.

“Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Did you do all of this?”

They spoke at the same time and when he’d finally managed to compose himself to let go of her, she watched as his expression danced from worry to bashfulness as he looked around and pointedly ignored her eyes before nodding.

“You just…” He scanned over the area slowly, shuffling his feet underneath him before he eventually looked up again, “You just work so hard. With everything. And I…there are some things I am helpless to aid you with. But this…this I could do for you.”

She grabbed him again, pressing their cheeks together as she held him tight, causing him to lift to his tiptoes to keep up with her enthusiasm as she nearly lifted him off the ground. But he seemed to find just enough balance to return it with as much eagerness, squeezing her so close to him it seemed as though he was trying to absorb her completely. She turned in his arms so that her lips managed to catch his, their noses bumping together as they connected.

He always acted so surprised when she kissed him, despite how many times they’d done it before. It was something she loved so dearly about him. It was just so genuine and so telling of how deeply his affection ran for her that she couldn’t help herself from surprising him time and time again.

Their kiss was only a small thing. Nothing extravagant or overly indulgent. Just something soft and sweet. But she poured every ounce of adoration and appreciation she held for him into and didn’t need to open her eyes to see it all reflected right back. When they’d finally broken apart, she let loose his long hair which she tangled her fingers into at the base of his neck in favor of holding both his hands in her own, lightly pressing each place on his skin the thorns from her shrubbery had marked onto him.

“Those roses are tricky,” he said as he watched her, feeling the softness of her fingers as they made circles across his skin, “I didn’t notice the thorns until I was already tangled in them.”

“They are beautiful, but not without bite.”

He flipped their hands then so that he now held hers, holding her gently as she let the memory settle, allowing the ache of her absence to pass so that she might be able to revel in what she still had right there with her, rather than become entrenched in what she’d lost.

“Thank you,” her words came as more of a breath that passed between them. But he heard her all the same, bringing their clasped hands to his lips and returning the sentiment with a kiss to her knuckles, ever the courteous knight.

“You’re welcome, Zelda.”

[zeldaelmo]

Zelinktine's month—28 Days of Romantic Zelink Prompts

Posting begins this Tuesday! Check the tag #zelinktine's month to see every entry. I've already seen bits and pieces, you are in for a gigantic treat! 💓💓💓🙈🙉🙊💓💓💓

Lineup of the creators in no particular order to hype everyone up:

@itcantbe

@softpromise

@farore-or-less

@meibara34

@linktheacehero

@silentprincess17

@binkus-and-smelda

@embywolf

@alkturos

@pastelsandpining

@aquaticpal

@alwaysunderwaterocean

@unknownquery

@dizzy-miss-lizzieeeeee

@science-trash-artwork

@obsidiangst

@skys-child

@nooneshome12

@wanderingnightingale

@neeneepanini

@solicewithinthemidnight

@dawn-the-rithmatist

@zeldaseyebrows

@ellensyu

@a03-anxiousandafraid

@zeldaelmo

We have fics, art, and poems—some entries are a collab with several creators! 😍😍😍

[softpromise]

drew this for one of the loveliest people on the entire planet @alwaysunderwaterocean 🥺 she wanted baby link sitting on urbosa’s hip so here we are ❤️‍🩹

[alwaysunderwaterocean]

It’s everything I’ve ever wanted in my entire life and more. All my love for softie can’t be contained to a tumblr post 😭 you are wonderful

[alwaysunderwaterocean]

WIP Wednesday

I'm working on something with my dear friends on Discord for Zelinktine's Month, which is a whole month of goodies starting in February created by a ton of wonderful writer's and artists that you should be excited for and if you're not, you're wrong.

Here's a sneak peak at Day 1: Roses. (:

“Is it time to go already?”

Her eyes gave away what her words did not as they lifted to meet his own, as soft and blue as they ever were. He stayed there for a moment, taking in the melancholy in her gaze as if he were trying to expose a way he could free her from it. But they both knew better. He was just as bound as she was to the shackles of prophecy that had brought them together and in the end, it would be both of them who would fail if she didn’t unmask her power soon. There was only so much he could do with the sword alone. They needed one another. And so far, he’d been carrying the weight of success all on his own. Yet there he was, allowing her to slip away yet again from her duties in order to indulge her own interests without any hint of disapproval to be found.

“It’s alright, we can stay a while,” he offered, even leaning his fabled sword against the outside fence in favor of extending his hand to her own.

She took it softly, quietly grateful he’d gone without his gloves in the mild spring weather so that she could feel his skin against hers.

[zeldaelmo]

Announcement post

I'm on a wonderful zelink discord server (18+ only) with a lot of great writers and amazing artists and we decided to use our power for something good—a theme month.

We picked February and since Valentine's Day is in February, we ended up with a lot of fluffy and romantic prompts! Take a look at the prompt list and get hyped for 28 days of zelink!

Follow the tag Zelinktine's month if you are curious, a lot of people are going to tease on WIP Wednesdays and other occasions.

Some prompts are pieces of art, some are fics, and some will have both!

Posting starts on the 1st of February. 💕

[itcantbe]

Heeeeeck yes! This is going to be so much fun! So much good stuff for you guys that month!

[alwaysunderwaterocean]

WIP Wednesday

hi, i'm not literally dead, only mentally.

Here's something from my "link was adopted" au I've been prying out of my brain for a few weeks now. Happy Wednesday!

“You know, there was something about him that first day you two met. I’d never seen you so drawn to another child before.”

Zelda groaned and plopped herself up to sit on the table, picking up a slice of cake to give her something to focus on other than her mother, who loved to tease the girl about the relationship that had grown between her and the boy she’d met as a child. They’d taken such a liking to each other that day in the throne room that the Queen had offered to his new parents a chance for him to attend classes with the young Princess, giving him an education they would have never dreamed to be able to provide their adopted son. They’d agreed wholeheartedly and the two had been inseparable ever since.

“Did you know your father gave me a hard time about sending that boy to the castle school? He wanted the family to pay for it in full. Said we couldn’t have peasant children in the same class as you. Can you believe that? I sometimes wonder where his empathy has gone. He wasn’t like that when we first met, you know. He used to be just as sweet as Link is to you.”

Zelda looked up then, and though she’d felt a heat on her cheeks when she’d mentioned their closeness yet again, she couldn’t help but notice the distance that was now in her mother’s eyes. But the moment didn’t last long. The dignified Queen composed herself just as quickly as she’d allowed her melancholy to slip, crinkling her eyes as she reached across to wipe a stray smear of icing off her daughter's cheek.

“Looks like he missed a spot.”

“Mother!” She covered her face in horror.

“That boy hardly says a single word, yet you have him in here after midnight talking up a storm. Tell me, Hylia’s Blessed child, what extra magic has our benevolent Goddess granted you that allows you to bewitch him so?”

[alwaysunderwaterocean]

You are wonderful and you deserve good things <3

Have a little guy who’s talented like you are

🎷🐢

PRECIOUS BABY 🥺

THANK YOU ANON

[pastelsandpining]

hi babe!! ilysm!! 💕💜💗💖💕

ummmm for the requests… how about i throw a bunch of fluffy prompts at you and you choose which one sings to you (or maybe combine a few?) because i’m incredibly indecisive!!

-“Are you implying that you want to kiss me?”

i love u and i’m answering all 2047627 of these u sent thanks. have some sky children

do you wanna kiss me?

Masterlist | Small Drabbles

—————

“Are you implying that you want to kiss me?”

Link isn’t entirely sure how it slips out, or even what he might’ve said to make her ask such a thing. Maybe it’s something about how he’s certain her smile tastes like sunlight and anyone who’s ever lucky enough to have a taste had better savor it—yeah, that’ll do it. He can’t remember the exact words he used. What he does know is that he hasn’t answered yet, and every millimeter higher Zelda’s eyebrow gets, the more red his face becomes.

It’s foolish, honestly. He’s crossed realms, he’s crossed time and space to get her back. He’s chased her to the very ends of the earth, fought gods and demons alike, hugged her limp body close to his chest—all because she’s his best friend and he loves her more than he could ever put into words. It seems silly to hesitate now, get all flustered over the idea of a simple kiss. But it’s not a simple kiss. It’s Zelda he wants to kiss, Zelda whose arms and hands and lips he thinks of, Zelda who might taste like honey or cloudberries or starfruit or the color yellow or sunlight.

Link gives a small cough to break up the awkward silence hovering in the air between them and swallows.

“Maybe,” he replies at last, licking his lips nervously. Zelda doesn’t say anything else. Her expression doesn’t even change. It’s funny to think how after the entire ordeal of her being His Zelda, it’s the thought that he might want to kiss her that takes them both out. For all the reunions they’d had, all the desperate hugs and whispers that they’d never let go again, he never spoke his feelings aloud. Now, he isn’t sure what to say or do next.

Zelda moves first. They’re already sitting fairly close, their shoulders and knees brushing, but she lifts her hand and when her fingertips brush over his cheek, he’s certain he stops breathing entirely. She’s touched him thousands of times before, and sometimes it was as intimate as this, but this is different. This is something that he would find in his dreams and wake up disappointed. Her touch is all he needs; he leans forwards to meet her, giving her lips a nervous and uncertain peck, because this is new. This is going to change their friendship, and he didn’t take that into account before he said any of this, and now he isn’t sure if he can really bring himself to risk that.

And Zelda scoffs at him; his heart sinks like a rock in the ocean, floating lower and lower and even when it hits the bottom, lower.

“I did not wait years for you to say something just for you to call that a kiss,” she says, and before he can even get a hold of himself, process whatever it was she’d just said, she was sinking her fingers into his hair and yanking him down to meet her mouth. He wants to ask why she’d never said anything; she was the more impulsive of the two of them–but when their lips touch, he doesn’t want to pull away. He wants to stay there forever, losing himself in her warmth and taste. His hands fumble trying to find a place to rest on her and she presses ever closer until he’s tumbling backwards into the grass, and she’s laughing against his mouth. The sound is bright and bubbly and everything he’s ever needed.

“You waited for me?” he asks, gazing up at her. She’s laying on his chest and the sun behind her head makes her hair look like a golden halo.

“I sealed myself in amber for you,” she reminded him, leaning her head down to press her forehead to his. Her hair makes a curtain around them and it’s a little hard to see her eyes this close up, but he grins and hugs her tight around the waist.

“Yeah, don’t ever do that again.”

When she laughs, he tilts his head to feel her genuine, beautiful joy against his lips, and he doesn’t stop kissing her until he’s out of breath.

[alwaysunderwaterocean]

AHHHH THIS IS SO PRECIOUS

[itcantbe]

More inspiration from my wonderful friend @alwaysunderwaterocean. We were goofing in the zelink discord about Zelda training Link like Pavlov's dog and while our ideas had been on the side of crack, what I ended up writing was fluff.

Ring A Bell

“Would you like a honey candy?” Zelda asks him, holding out a bag full of round candies wrapped in twists of gold paper.

“You know I would,” Link says with a smile.

Link reaches into the bag Zelda holds out to him and plucks out one of the candies. He waits a moment, watching her, waiting for his cue.

“And what do you say?” she asks in a sing-song voice, tilting her head to the side. He leans over and presses a kiss to her cheek.

“Thank you,” he murmurs before he sits back again, unwrapping the candy and happily popping it into his mouth.

She can’t stand honey candies, finding them too sweet and cloying. But they’re his favorite. She must admit she has him well trained, by now. A kiss for a candy. A reward for them both.

****

She hoped she hid her disappointment well when, after asking Link if he remembered her, he answered that he didn’t, not really. Zelda only hopes that something of the man she knew, the man she loved, is still in there, somewhere.

It has only been a few days since the battle at the castle, and they have been in Kakariko to give her time to recover from her long ordeal. She feels a bit shy around this new Link, not quite used to his boisterous laugh, or the sound of his voice as he chats with every villager he meets. Though the sight of his blushes when he catches her watching him bring a pang, a memory of early days when they were just beginning to learn each other.

When Zelda is shopping with Paya, she spies a familiar bag and adds it to their purchases. Later, she finds Link and nervously takes a seat next to him. She fidgets with the bag, untying the string and carefully pulling the bag open as far as it goes, before she holds it out to him.

“Would you like a honey candy?”

He looks over to her curiously.

“Oh, uh … sure. I don’t think I’ve ever tried these.”

Link reaches in the bag and takes one of the sweets, wrapped in gold paper just like they were in Castle Town 100 years ago. And then, before he even realizes what he’s doing, he leans over and kisses her on the cheek. Her breath catches in surprise, and his face turns bright red.

“Oh goddess, I’m so sorry! I have no idea what came over me!”

Link tries to hide his embarrassment by unwrapping the candy and popping it into his mouth.

“Have … have you had these before?”

Zelda can’t keep the smile from her face.

“Oh, yes. They’re my favorite.”

[alwaysunderwaterocean]

This is the most precious thing I’ve ever read in my entire life.

🍯💛

HIGHLY RECOMMEND 1000/10

[alwaysunderwaterocean]

Friendly Competition

Trying to write everyday in December to cure my writer's block. Enjoy Link being grumpy.

WC: 700 something, it's another baby one.

"Do you want something warm to drink?"

He didn't answer. He hadn't said a word since he'd shut the thick door to their cabin behind them in the Hebra Mountains and rekindled the hearth to stave off the chill that had settled there since they’d left it earlier that day. It wasn't unusual for him not to speak. In fact, there were many moments when she savored the comfortable silence that sometimes fell between them when they were content to simply share the other's space. But this was different. He had a noticeable pout to his brow and a heaviness to his step that spoke of something deeper stirring in his usually calm waters.

"I can heat up some water and make some tea if you'd like. Your nose is still red, you should probably try to get warm before you grow ill. You shouldn’t have given me that last elixir."

"I'm fine."

He shook his head as he peeled off his outermost layer, plopping down on the wooden sofa that sat conveniently in front of the fire that would warm him as she suggested without him admitting to actually taking her suggestion.

"I have that honey you found in Faron I can stir in," she tried to entice him with sweets, but to no avail.

He simply grunted in reply as he tucked himself deeper into the quilt he’d since wrapped around his shoulders.

“Alright, suit yourself.”

She took her time with the tea, carefully arranging the leaves into the small, spherical apparatus she’d crafted that allowed her to brew them without having to suffer through their bitterness lining the bottom of her mug when she was done. She sat serenely and watched the steam rise out of the ceramic curves of her cup, occasionally shifting her focus over to where Link still sat moping in his chair off to her side, staring into the flames before him as if they would unveil the key to ending his dreadful mood.

Eventually her leaves had been steeped with the perfect tones of flavor to suit her palate and a glistening spoonful of honey had been generously stirred into both of the mugs she now carried towards him. She sat his mug down on the arm of the sofa and suppressed a giggle when he reached for it sheepishly, holding it carefully in both his hands as he blew little swirls of steam in the chilled air before him.

“You know, being crowned as the second best shield surfer isn’t all that bad. You still beat Selmie”

He cut his eyes to her then before finally finding his voice he’d lost the moment that silver medallion had been draped across his neck.

“That just means I was the first to lose.”

She couldn't help but laugh at his genuine dejection as he shrunk even deeper in his chair and sipped on his mug of tea.

“My gold medal will look lovely hanging above our mantle at home though, don’t you think?” She shot him her smuggest grin that left him rolling his eyes.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, you were a wonderful teacher, you know.”

“So wonderful that you didn’t hesitate at all knocking me off that one curve,” his frown was slowly dissipating as he let the warm liquid fill his stomach and the sweetness of the honey coat his throat.

“Well of course, I wasn’t about to lose.”

He gave his eyes one more roll for good measure before opening his blanket and encouraging her inside. She shuffled over quickly and settled naturally into him, letting him cocoon her with the quilt and his arms as their mugs clicked together. They stayed that way for some time, finishing off their tea and setting their mugs on the floor so that they could more properly cuddle together. Soon enough, she felt his breathing begin to even and his hold on her loosen as he started to doze off, the tea and the comfort of their closeness enough the soothe him into a light sleep.

“Just wait until we do the Sand Seal Races. Perhaps you’ll find some redemption then,” she grinned into his chest as he suddenly became more alert, both of them knowing who had spent the largest chunk of their childhood in the desert practicing that particular sport.

“Urbosa told me I was the best she’d ever - hey!” Her gloating was cut short by the forceful laughter that flew from her lips as his hands expertly found her most ticklish places, leaving her helpless and writhing in his arms as he finally found his revenge.

[alwaysunderwaterocean]

Zelink Coffee Date

Happy December 1st (:

Its just a baby one.

He had unraveled his turtle neck so that it protected his sensitive nose from the worst of the winter wind while also making him appear like an overgrown child playing with his clothes. It made Zelda both giddy with affection and flushed from the slight secondhand embarrassment that was watching the people cut their eyes his way as they passed them by on the small sidewalk. He’d be a slight curiosity to them that would quickly fade away; just a giggle under their breath as went about their day . But he was hers forever, or so said the ring that she loved to spin around his finger as they held hands on their way for a hot drink on that coldest of days in the dead of winter. She wouldn’t trade him for anything, silly as he was with his long hat his mother had knit for him swung over his shoulder and his eyes scrunched in a smile she couldn’t see through the fabric of his shirt but knew was there.

“You don’t even like coffee, what are you going to get?”

“A hot chocolate.”

She squeezed his hand and bumped into his shoulder as they made their way to the entrance of the small coffee shop, scooting to the side to allow another couple to pass through before Link caught the door for her.

“After you, your Highness.”

“You stop that!” She smacked him with her knit hat she’d slid off her head, but the grin on her face told him she was just blowing smoke. She secretly loved his little pet names, though she’d never admit it. Teasing him about it had proven more fun anyway.

They made their way to the counter, waiting behind an elderly man who grumbled when asked his milk preference and a teenage girl who could hardly order because of how furiously she was typing on her phone. When they had finally made their way to the front of the line, Zelda was the first to order.

“A small, hot peppermint mocha with oat milk, please.”

The worker scribbled her order on the cup before looking up at Link.

“Uh...a large hot chocolate. Kid temperature, please.”

Both women paused to look at Link who seemed oblivious to their bafflement as he read the back of a tea bag that was displayed on the counter.

“That means you want it...lukewarm, correct?”

“Yes, please.”

The barista flattened her mouth before shrugging and writing the instructions on his cup. She took the card from his already outstretched hand and swiped it and before moving to the back to make their drinks.

“Kid temp? Really?” Zelda laughed as he slid his wallet back into his jacket pocket and they stepped to the side so that others could order.

“It always burns my tongue. They make it so hot! And I like being able to drink it immediately. I don’t have the patience to sip it like you do, I’m thirsty. Hey, look! That mug has a Z on it!”

He grabbed her hand and scampered towards a wall of personalized mugs just off to the side of the counter, picking up the one that had caught his eye and holding it in front of her like a prize.

“Oh my gods, it even has a little korok inside at the bottom that says 'Ya ha ha! You found me!' Zelda, you need this!”

She watched as his eyes lit up at the simple treasure he’d found, allowing the smell of fresh coffee and the warmth of her affection for him to lull her into a contentedness that was as comforting as the warm drink that now awaited her on the counter.

[zeldaelmo]

Congrats on your 300 followers, I know it will only continue to grow! The community is enamored with your writing. Could I get a fic maybe with Link walking into a surprise birthday party Zelda planned for him?

Aaaah, @v1ser1on, thank you so much! ❤❤❤

Of course, you can!

Big thanks add @aquaticpal and @binkus-and-smelda for looking this over for me on short notice! 💗

Of surprises

Slipping out of bed, Link's bare feet hit the wooden floor. On his way down the stairs, the autumn cold crept up his legs.

Zelda was already gone. 

Again.

Help Purah with the runes, please. I won't be home for lunch.

He snatched an apple, trying not to let the briefness of the note bother him. They had always been short and she had always tended to order him around. Old habits. He hadn't minded much, but that was before she left the house at dawn.

Pulling his hood deeper to avoid the mist wavering through Hateno, he plodded towards the lab. Inside, he endured Purah's commands and Symin's bland soup, trying not to think about Zelda's change in behavior.

He knew that the phase of heated kisses and blushes didn't last forever—he had seen enough couples who had drifted apart. He just hadn't thought it would happen so fast, especially after all they had been through. But lately, Zelda was hardly home. She told him what she had been doing, but he was street-smart enough to know what Gerudo Town had to offer and that was not the fish she brought home. Maybe I'll catch her with a lover one day, he thought on his way home, despising himself for even thinking about it.

As if on cue, the light was oddly dimmed despite the noises from inside the house. He pushed the door open.

"Happy Birthday, Link!" A chorus of voices rang out.

"What?" he croaked. Sidon, Harth, Riju—the house was full of friends.

Zelda slipped an arm around him and kissed his forehead, whispering, "You don't remember? It's today."

"O—okay."

"Sorry for being absent lately. It was a nightmare to get this organized. This weekend we’ll just stay in bed, alright?"

"I—I'd love to."

[alwaysunderwaterocean]

😭 I love them! Poor Link was stressing!

[itcantbe]

BOTW Sci-Fi AU part two

I wrote more of this! In our zelink discord @lorelylantana suggested considering Link's in-game shenanigans in space, riding on stasised objects or windbombing and other speed run techniques, and so I did! Although in a bit more serious way. Read part one here!

sifting through the system for the piece that knows my name

part two 2541 words

Part two:

Link tapped the fingers of his left hand on the ship’s console. Deya Station. There’s something familiar about the name, something familiar about the shape of it, the vague impression of a whole and thriving space port overlaid on the dark and ruined husk in front of him.

But whatever psychic beacon brought him here was second to the reason he actually followed the whim. His fuel gage was flashing a warning signal, letting him know he wasn’t going anywhere without new fuel cells. His fingers continued their distracted tapping on the console, but now he directed his gaze out of the view screen at the ruined outpost hanging in the black, the occasional flash and fizzle of running lights indicating at least a partially full fuel cell somewhere in the mess.

Ruins like this were risky. The outpost was surrounded with debris: beat-up metal storage crates, mines that could either be defunct or explode on contact (he’d discovered that by unfortunate accident), the remains of destroyed starships, and several husks of decaying guardian droid ships. And who knows what could be lurking inside. But it was his only option right now. He didn’t have the fuel to attempt anything else.

Link shuts down the ship, packs enough oxygen for an hour’s walk, and launches himself at the ruin. He always feels a thrill when he space walks, something dangerously appealing about it. Perhaps it was the weird impulse to keep going, float endlessly into the void, that he found difficult to resist sometimes. A suicidal sort of freedom. He never gives in, of course, but the call can be hard to ignore, the emptiness of space too like the emptiness inside of him. Sometimes he thinks he’s better off diving into one instead of trying to figure out the other.

He maneuvers carefully through the detritus surrounding the outpost, pushing off chunks of demolished spacecraft and twisted pieces of metal, until he touches down on the ruined edges of the station. The lights continued to spark on and off, briefly washing the scene in bright flashes of light, enhancing the abandoned station’s feeling of lonely unreality. Link checks the oxygen gauge on his suit once more before beginning his exploration. He has 50 minutes left, but that’s only if he paces himself and keeps his breathing regular and even. Heavy exertion of any kind will wear the gauge down quickly.

He works his way deeper into the station, seeking the central fuel storage. It’s a relief to discover that the station does seem truly abandoned, free of squatting bokoblins or pockets of moblin raiders. His encounters with those creatures, twisted with malice, have not gone well. But still the fuel storage proves elusive, and he can practically feel his time running out. He checks his gauge once more. He’s down to 40 minutes.

Link almost gives up, hoping his fuel is enough to find another outpost, when he feels the tug again. He’s felt this before, each time there’s a memory of his somewhere, some relic of his past that draws him in. He knows his discovery of this outpost wasn’t just by chance or necessity. He follows the pull to the station’s control room. The station lights flash on once more, briefly, highlighting the station map pasted next to the door frame, and he uses the light from the slate to illuminate the path he needs to get to the fuel storage.

Link drops a marker on the control room so he can come back and follow the thread that brought him here, but first he needed to find the fuel cells. He’s running low on time and too low on oxygen to mess about much longer. His memories have waited this long, they can wait a bit longer. Now that he knows where he’s going it only takes him a few minutes to get there, grab the functioning fuel cells and make his way back to the control center. He checks his gauge; 20 minutes. Barely enough air to make it back to the Epona.

But enough to pick up the memory, too. He knows he won’t feel settled if he leaves it behind. Still, Link hesitates, unsure if his recovered memories help him at all, or if it’s just some ritual he performs for the dead. A comfort for people he doesn’t know, can’t remember. Because so far the few memories he does have bring him no solace. It doesn’t bring any of him back.

But before he can complete this thought, his hand has already placed the slate in the dock and the screen flashes as it communicates with the computer. Distilling local information… the screen reads, data runes flowing like water. Then the strange eye symbol appears on the screen, and the dock rotates and spits the slate back out to him. And that’s when he hears it.

As soon as his hand wraps around the handle of the slate he hears the sound of metallic feet clicking on the floor of the ruined station and a peculiar ticking noise that can only mean one thing: guardian drones. They must have been dormant until he accessed the station’s computer. Link hurriedly snaps the slate to his hip and chances a look behind him to see four of the little bastards all lined up, blocking his exit, red homing beacons dancing over his chest. He only has seconds before they fire their lasers, and then he’s toast, because he foolishly brought no shield for what was meant to be a quick mission in and out of the station.

The pitch of the homing lasers rises to a crescendo, which he knows from past experience means they’re about to fire, and he waits until the very last second so the drones don’t have time to retarget before he dives off to the side, evading the blast. It takes the drones a few moments to recharge their lasers, and he takes the time to check his oxygen level: 10 minutes. His panic in trying to not get shot and all of his rapid movement is drawing his air levels down quickly. The dome-shaped heads of the guardians begin to rotate, seeking him out again. His heart thuds in his chest and he realizes he’s not going to make it. Either the guardian lasers will kill him or he’ll suffocate, and he’ll be just another burnt out corpse joining the rest of the debris around the station.

He needs to move fast, all while not wasting his available oxygen. But in the heightened adrenaline of the moment, he can’t do both, his breath coming in short pants as he mentally reviews his options. He’s down to taking reckless chances or dying. So, in the seconds he has before the guardians fire, Link whips out the slate and generates a remote bomb. A risky endeavor in the tight confines of the station’s control center, but he has no choice. A glowing blue orb materializes in his hand and he lobs it at the guardians, managing to sail it right behind them as they tangle with each other trying to get at him, the drone’s long, spider-like legs scrambling for purchase on the metal floor.

Whatever the otherworldly properties of the slate’s remote bombs are, they give the bomb weight and inertia in the low remnant gravity of the station, and it hits the ground and rolls off behind the guardians, the movement distracting them long enough that he has time to wedge himself into a more protective space before detonating. He shuts his eyes and taps the slate to detonante, and the bomb explodes in a cascade of bright blue light, the force of the explosion thumping him further into his hiding spot and causing the guardians to fly into the control room, landing in a haphazard heap almost right in front of him. Luckily the blast stunned the drones enough for him to clamber over their writhing legs and escape.

Link tries to modulate his breathing, tries to not use more than he has to, but it’s impossible, panic overwhelming him as he hears the guardians begin to right themselves and come after him. He scrambles his way out of the ruined station, getting turned around twice and wasting precious seconds getting onto the right path. Finally he makes it outside of the station, and that’s when the low oxygen warning begins to blare inside his suit. Red light flashes and the alarm, a peculiar banging noise, pulses in time with the light. It’s distracting, and disorienting, and makes focusing on his escape even more difficult.

Luckily the guardians can’t leave the station, but their lasers hold no such restrictions. He can see the dance of the homing beacons through the debris surrounding the station and he struggles to keep his breathing even as he realizes he has nowhere to hide, and no way to make it back to his ship, still parked too far off for him to make it with the oxygen he has now. One laser blast would end his life, but even a glancing blow could rip his suit and end him that way, albeit in a slower, more painful fashion. He’s not eager to experience either, especially since he’s already on track to die by suffocation.

Link manages to dodge the next round of lasers, now without the benefit of being able to hear the ticking of the homing sensor that always tipped him off to the blast before. But the banging of the low oxygen alarm is getting more insistent, and he can feel a fog begin to steal into his mind, a sure indication that his oxygen is in its last seconds. He barely gets out of the way of the debris flying past him thanks to the most recent guardian laser blast, when his oxygen-deprived brain manages to hit on an idea.

He’s used the stasis function of the slate before, to hold things steady or to get heavy objects from one place to another. But he’s never used it like this. But what better time to experiment, when he’s down to do or die? Especially when “die” seems so likely anyway. Quickly, before the guardians recover and recalibrate their lasers in one final blast, he grabs on to one of the large metal crates orbiting the station, and angles it so it faces the Epona.

Link briefly pops his head up to draw the guardian’s attention his way, then accesses the slate’s stasis rune and locks the crate in place. The slate vibrates, highlighting the crate in yellow, and begins to tick a countdown. He begins to see spots as his oxygen depletes and wonders if he even has enough to wait for the guardian blast. It’ll be a near thing. He holds still, allowing the drone’s homing beacons to target him, counting the seconds as best he can until he thinks they’ll shoot before ducking down behind the crate once again.

He felt the shock of the laser blast as it smashed into the crate, and the stasis holds for just a moment before it shatters, spectacularly, the lasers pushing enough kinetic force into the crate to launch it forcefully toward his ship. It takes him with it, as it flies, his vision darkening around the edges as he teeters on the edge of consciousness, stuck to a metal crate hurtling toward the open bay of his ship. The crate smacks into the side of the ship and he’s flung inside the bay. He barely manages to slam the button to close the bay door and pry off his helmet before he passes out.

*****

The stolen fuel cells are loaded into the ship and he’s finally on his way somewhere else before he works up the courage to place the slate into the ship’s dock to see what the damaged Deya Station computer transferred.

A video began to play as soon as it loaded, but he stabbed the pause button forcefully before it could play out. He stares at the image frozen on the screen — the girl with the green eyes, head down, face contorted in pensive misery — before he taps the play button once more.

“If you could do things differently, would you?”

He stares down at his knees, drawn up to his chest, and thinks for a moment before shrugging up one shoulder. He doesn’t say anything. He rarely does. He never can find words, when he is around her. Her easy intelligence always makes him feel awkward and clumsy, too afraid of ruining their tentative friendship by opening his stupid mouth.

“If you could choose something else …”

As the pause drags on, he finally pulls his head up, only to look over to her and find her watching him. He jumps, a bit, startled. He’s used to watching her, but not used to having the full weight of her attention on him. He can only stare back, mouth dry, swallowing down his sudden nerves, as she waits for him, her eyes wide and hopeful. He only wishes he knew what answer she wanted from him.

“I … probably … probably not,” he finally stutters, and when her eyes drop away from his and her shoulders slump in defeat, he knows he chose wrong, that he didn’t say the right thing, and now he’s disappointed her. Fear and panic boil up inside of him at the realization, and his jaw works as he tries to come up with some way to explain himself.

But how can he tell her that every choice was the right choice, if it’s what brought him to her? That if he could do it all over again, he would, a hundred times, a thousand, if it meant he got to be right here, right now. That she was the only thing that filled up all of the hollow places inside of him, and there was no point in considering life without her because it would be as good as death.

The viewpoint was odd, as if it had been filmed through someone’s eyes. His eyes, he knew, as if the memory had been pulled out of his brain and put into a recording. Which seems impossible, and yet. Although he doesn’t remember the day this happened, or the circumstances behind the conversation, he can feel every emotion, the impact of her words like a meteor shower, tiny points of fire that strike into him and burn all the way through.

He has a choice, now. He knows he does. He can take the slate and run, go anywhere, and not deal with GANON, never find the girl with the green eyes. Never learn who she is, or what she meant to him. Or what he meant to her. He thinks about it, every time, about turning tail and fleeing into the unknown. Never coming back.

But then he thinks of her eyes on him, the pleading look in their depths, and the sneaking suspicion that all of this hangs on her and him and nothing else. And almost before he knows it, the coordinates are programmed into the ship and he’s continuing his way to The Castle.

[alwaysunderwaterocean]

Omg that was a wild ride. Action scenes are so hard but that felt like watching a movie! Also the angst of that call of the void moment was 💯

Now I’m imagining a bokoblin flailing around in space and it’s a good time.

🛸

[pastelsandpining]

CONGRATULATIONS ON 300!!!

Since I'm here to make you scream, I want to request OoT Link meeting his and Zelda's first baby for the first time (he may or may not have been evicted from the room because he was stressing Zelda out with his stress)

😈😈 I know we were just screaming about it the other day, bUT- BUT- Now u have to. 😀😀😀

is that??? obisiANGST requesting fluff??? UNHEARD OF anyway this is absolutely disgusting

summary is simple: link is amazed by tiny hylian

at last

Masterlist | Small Drabbles

requests are still open so feel free to send me a little prompt!

----------

It had been a dreadful six hours. Well, it’d been a little longer than that, but he’d been kicked out of left the room a few hours into the labor and had been pacing outside of the doors ever since. His title of hero seemed so useless to him now; Hero of Time, and he could do nothing to support his wife. His Zelda was in there, in pain and worry and—

The doors to the room opened and Link’s feet halted immediately.

“Prince Link?” came the voice of the doctor. He turned to look at him, fighting the urge to fiddle with his shirt like a child.

“How is she?” he asked, taking an anxious step closer.

“The Queen is resting,” the doctor replied with a slow nod. “She will be on bedrest for a few days, but she’s alright.”

“And-“ A swell of emotion made the lump in his throat hard to swallow, “-our daughter?”

“She’s perfectly healthy. You’re welcome to go back in. The Queen grants you her permission.”

Link couldn’t help the watery laugh that escaped his lips. He gave the doctor a small nod in thanks before tip-toeing, slipping as quietly as possible, through the doors and into their bedroom. Zelda was on the bed now instead of in the shallow bath they’d brought in for the purpose of the birth. She looked tired but radiant all the same. Link ran a hand through her hair, sweaty and matted to her forehead, and he couldn’t help thinking she was the strongest, most beautiful person he’d ever had the pleasure of seeing. At the gentle contact, her eyes fluttered open and she smiled softly up at him. The sight of that alone was enough to get him choked up, but then his sluggish and tired mind registered the little bundle of blankets on her chest. A little fist, hardly bigger than his thumb, was peaking out–but the little baby was quiet, the blanket moving subtly with the rise and fall of her breathing.

“I’m sorry I had to kick you out,” Zelda whispered as he sat on a chair beside the bed, her hand fishing to grasp his. He laced their fingers and raised her knuckles to his lips.

“I would’ve kicked me out, too,” he answered quietly, his voice thick with emotion.

“You were making me nervous. I thought you might pass out,” she said, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.

“I didn’t like seeing you in pain.” He ran his thumb along the soft skin of her finger.

“It was worth it, love. Look.”

Zelda pulled her hand free to push back the blanket just enough to reveal the face of their new daughter. She was still red in the face, but she had Zelda’s cute little button nose and light, wispy blonde hair. That was when he really started to cry. He reached a shaking hand towards the little one, cupping her head so gently that he was barely touching her at all, and brushed some of her hair aside with his thumb. She was so soft, so fragile, and he had to pull his hand back out of fear of hurting her.

“She’s so small,” he breathed, and only then did the miracle that was life hit him. This little thing was created out of love, and that was all it would need to be nurtured and grow into the best queen Hyrule had ever seen–right after his precious Zelda.

“Do you want to hold her?” Zelda asked, and all of the air left his lungs. He wanted to say no. He’d done and seen so much, his hands were tainted with blood and his body with scars; he wasn’t worthy of touching Zelda, much less the little bundle of life they’d somehow created together. But she was far more clever than he would ever be able to keep up with, and she was handing him the little girl before he could even find his voice. She was so light in his hands, but the weight of all she meant to him was heavy and, gods, he refused to move. If he moved even an inch, he would hurt her. He would drop her. He would–

Link tore his eyes from the baby’s face when he heard Zelda’s quiet laughter. The dim light caught the tears in her eyes, but her smile was wider than he’d ever seen it before.

“You don’t have to be afraid,” she teased him. “She isn’t going to bite you.”

“No,” he agreed with a soft laugh of his own, something of disbelief and wonder. “No, but I don’t want to hurt her.”

“Link, you are not capable of hurting anyone you care about.”

He didn’t know about that. But Zelda shifted, scooting in the bed with a wince, and he leaned forwards to stop her–but it was too late. She was patting the open spot beside her.

“I can’t move,” he said, shaking his head. “If I move, she’ll wake up.”

“Oh, give her here, you big baby,” Zelda replied with another laugh, holding her hands out. As slow as he could manage, Link stood and transferred the little darling back to her mother. She didn’t wake at all, so he figured it was safe enough to crawl into the bed next to Zelda. She leaned against him almost immediately, and he slipped his arm around her to hold her ever closer.

“I’m so proud of you,” he murmured, turning his head to press a kiss against her hair. “I think you bear more strength and courage than I ever could.”

“I love you,” Zelda said. He could hear the smile on her face, but his eyes were long since locked on their daughter. She shifted, splaying out a hand, and he felt Zelda nudge him. “Put your finger in her hand.”

“What?”

“Trust me.”

Link let out a playfully exasperated sigh and did as he was told–and her little fingers curled around his instantly, almost like a reflex. He was certain he’d stopped breathing. He was going to die there. His heart was going to give out right there and he would be perfectly fine with that.

“She likes you already,” Zelda said with another gentle nudge and he laughed, watery and weak and so very happy.

This was peace and bliss; they’d found it at last.

[alwaysunderwaterocean]

what have you DONE TO ME

BABY ZELINK IS MY WEAKNESS

this was so sweet I may need to lay down. I’m already laying down I may as well die while I’m happy.

That was wonderful 😭