Hello! Once again, it's nice to see you on tumblr once more. I actually have a request: Could you write a story about reader accidentally calling Talon "Mario" while they and the chain are in Lon Lon Ranch ? I'm Just imagining the confused stares everybody give poor embarassed reader, and then the surprise once reader tells the chain (and maybe Malon if she's there) that Talon is based on the most popular character of Nintendo.
LU Isekai! Reader - You Call Talon "Mario"
Thanks! I'm glad to be back!
Fun Fact! Once I worked two full-time jobs at the same time (over the summer I first started writing, actually. I think in 2024) and only got 4 hours of sleep max. I got so tired I lost the ability to feel my own body. During this time I accidentally called a male supervisor "mom," but he was also so tired neither of us noticed until a few hours later!
Word Count: 1435
Time and Malon’s house was really cozy. You didn’t expect it to be so nice, what with everything in Hyrule being vaguely-Medieval, but it was warm, clean, and smelled like an open field. Unfortunately, it also had a LOT of work to do around it.
Most of the others took to farm life like fish to water. It made sense, you think. Twilight had grown up on a farm. Four and Legend had been blacksmithing apprentices long enough they knew a bit of what to do. Wild seemed to have some kind of farming experience, although where he got it from was a mystery to both of you. And Sky… Sky had found some way to communicate telepathically with the Cuccoos, you swear.
Unfortunately, you were not so lucky. This type of farm work was miles away from anything you had done before. You’re muscles still weren’t used to a life of traveling and fighting, much less hauling feed across an entire barn. You also weren’t used to getting up before the sun.
All that to say, you were tired.
You had been at the farm for days. Every morning you would get shaken awake by one of the boys and drag your feet to the Cuccoo coup with your eyes still half-closed. Then it was off to the barn to start feeding and milking and raking. By the time you got back to the house to start laundry, your arms were aching, and you were cursing under your breath that washing machines hadn’t been invented yet.
You helped Malon make lunch. With so many guests, it was an entire production. Wild helped too, of course, but none of the others were trusted near the kitchen. You liked listening to her stories as she recounted all the different hijinxs Time had gotten up to as a kid. You liked hearing about his childhood like it was a real thing that had happened, instead of just a game. Wild still occasionally tried to ask Malon how old Time was, but her lips were sealed.
“What about you?” Wild asks, snapping you out of… well, not your thoughts. You had been holding a knife in your hand, staring at the tomato on the cutting board with a far-away look in your eyes. You had been doing that a lot. You think it was the lack of sleep.
“Huh?” you slowly turn your head. It felt like you were trying to move through molasses, but that was probably just your thoughts lagging behind your body.
“C’mon, sleepyhead! What’s your best guess about how old he is?” Legend grins, leaning over the counter. He never helped cook, but sometimes he came to chat. Probably just to avoid some of his chores. “We’ve still got money on this. Even if some people,” he glares accusingly at Malon, who just laughs, “refuse to tell us.”
Normally, you wouldn’t use your knowledge of the timelines to say things about the others they didn’t want shared themselves. You had kept Twilight’s secret about being a wolf and Legend’s about his adventure in Koholint. Unfortunately, you were too exhausted to register that there were some things you shouldn’t say.
“Uhhh, I don’ know? He was probably seventeen?” You try to count out on your fingers, but the numbers swim around in your head, and you can’t hold onto them. “So when he was ten, he wasn’t. And then the time loop couldn’t be more than, like, a year?”
“Wow, you are tired,” Wild laughs, taking the knife out of your hand before you could accidentally cut off your fingers. You blink, one eye at a time, before it registers that he did that.
“Nonono, let them continue,” Legend waves Wild away with one hand, leaning even farther over the counter towards you. “How old?”
“Uhh, ten plus eight…plus ten? Plus… eight?” You squeeze your eyes closed, trying to remember how addition worked. Carry the two? No, you round if there’s a five, right? And then if you used slope-intercept form…
“Okay,” Malon laughs, grabbing you by the shoulders and steering you into the living room. “I think you might need a rest, city-slicker.”
“Wha…? No, I can hel–” You face-plant onto the couch as soon as she lets go of you, face pressed into the center cusion and legs hanging over the arm.
“Wow. You were not made for farm work,” you can hear the smirk in Time’s voice as he says it. You turn your head, hair flopping into your face as you look at him, and muster a half-scowl.
“I think my arms’ll fall off,” you complain. “And you’re all insane for wakin’ up so early.”
“Yeah, it’s a bit rough,” Sky yawns, collapsing on the couch next to you. He smells like Cuccoos. You flop over onto your back, using your legs to pull yourself against the armrest and give him a few more inches of room.
“I miss only doing stuff by pressing buttons,” you pout, staring at the ceiling. “It’s so much easier to milk things by pressing B.”
“You just need some more time away from your fancy ‘modern’ life,” Twilight enters the living room from the front door, holding something in his arms you don’t quite care enough about to look at. He’s lost most of his usual layers. Hard to do farm work wearing a pelt, you suppose.
“What’re you doing in so soon? Lunch won’t be ready for a while.” Malon pokes her head out of the kitchen.
“Oh! That would be my bad,” an unfamiliar voice says from behind Twilight. “I asked him to help with some of the things I got from town. Didn’t realize we had expanded the operationi to need so many new faces!”
Twilight steps forward, and you see him. A short little man with a red shirt, blue overalls, and a massive mustache.
“...Mario?” You raise your head off the couch, trying to process. Wait. No, wrong game. Mario shouldn’t be here. Who looked like Mario? Was there a character in the Legend of Zelda that looked like Mario? You should know this!
Time looks at you, one eyebrow raised.
“Ah! I’ll get you introduced,” Malon beams, wiping her hands off on her apron as she takes the things from Twilight’s arms and places them on the table. “Daddy, these are the other heroes Link was writing to us about. Everyone, this is my father, Talon.”
Those present introduce themselvs with some variation of “good to meet you sir.” Sky get’s up to shake his hand, leaving the couch your domain. You flop your head back onto the cushions. You’re too tired for good first impressions.
“‘Mario’?” Time quotes you.
“He’s based on Mario,” you shrug, your face heating up ever so slightly. “Give me a break, man. I’m tired.”
“Who’s Mario?” Talon asks. Malon and the Links present also regard you with confusion.
“They’re from a world where all of us are just stories,” Wild pipes up helpfully from the kitchen.
“Thanks, Wild,” you say sarcastically. He gives you a thumbs up before returning his attention to stirring a bowl of something.
“Shouldn’t you know who Talon is, then?” Legend smirks. He liked having these “gotcha” moments.
“I dooo,” you whine, covering your face with your hands.“Mario’s just, like, more famous. He’s the mascot of the company that made most of your games. Talon was designed to look like him.”
“Well, this Mario must be quite the handsome fellow, then,” Talon laughs and heads into the kitchen. Malon follows, chatting about some farm stuff that goes direcly over your head. At least he didn’t seem to care. Then again, he didn’t seem to care about much of anything, from what you can remember. Then again again, you’re memory wasn’t exaclty the best at the moment. Maybe with a full nights’ rest, you would be better equipped for this.
Time turns towards you again, smirking.
“Not. One. Word,” you grit your teeth.
“Mario,” he grins.
“Stooop,” you roll over on the couch, hiding your now bright red face from him. A few of the others snicker.
“Please tell me there’s more people like that you’ll get mixed up about,” Legend laughs.
“Uhh, there’s Ingo, I guess,” you say.
“Oh, and who is he designed after?” Sky sounds genuine, but his smile says otherwise. He also thinks this is hilarious. You mutter under your breath, asking Hylia why she decided this guy was the one she was going to fall in love with, before you answer.
“...Luigi.”
The room breaks out in laughter. You sink further into the couch.
Y/N brought a gun to a sword fight. It goes pretty well. Until the boys start asking questions...
(I wrote this at 3 AM while high on Nyquil. I don't even know what's happening in this one anymore. Read at your own risk.)
You had fallen into a world of fantasy. Large monsters lurked in abandoned dungeons brimming with treasure. Sword-weilding heroes defeated evil dragons and saved princesses. Honestly, you’re not sure how you’ve survived this long traveling with a band of heroes, apparently gathered from across time and space to face the greatest threat this world has ever encountered.
Knowing your inexperience in battle, they had tried to keep you away from the fighting. But they were occupied now.
You hold your weapon out in front of you, staring down the giant creature that had attacked your group. Some of them called it a Lynel. Whatever it was, it was bad news. Besides the fact that it looked like a nasty lovechild between a lion and a horse, it had already knocked some of the others away with the giant, hammer-like sword it wielded.
You took a deep breath.
The shot rang out in the clearing, the beast suddenly falling to the ground. The sounds of battle were replaced with a still, eerie silence.
Oh, yeah. That was how you survived. #secondammendment, baby!
You lower your pistol, looking around at your companions, most of whom were staring at you, jaws hanging open.
“You guys okay?” You asked, noticing the various scrapes and bruises most of them had.
“Y/N. What in Farore’s name was that?” Warriors stares at the gun in your hand like it’s going to suddenly jump out and bite him.
“Was that a spell?” Hyrule peers curiously at you from where he’s kneeling, his hands glowing as he tries to heal Wild. Knowing Wild, he’d probably missed a backflip during the fight and gotten his ribs shattered. Again.
“Uhh, no? It’s a gun.” You motion to the gun in your hand. “Do you guys not have guns in this world?”
“What’s a gun?” Wind pipes up, suddenly at your elbow. He leans forward, trying to get a better view of your weapon.
“I thought you were a pirate? Don’t pirates have pistols?” You raise an eyebrow at the young boy. He makes a confused face.
“Pirates use swords. And canons,” he explains.
“Then think of this like a small canon. There’s a tiny explosion that shoots a piece of metal super fast.” You trace your finger down the barrel, showing the path of the bullet out of the gun.
“How did you get a canon this small?” Four is suddenly standing at your other elbow, examining the gun with a confused look. You could practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to make sense of the device.
“Beats me, man.” You shrug.
“Wait, how can you not know how your own weapon works?” Legend scoffs, crossing his arms in annoyance. You simply shrug again.
“It’s not like they teach us about it. Heck, schools don’t even let kids pretend to play with guns.” You roll your eyes in annoyance. “When we played cops and robbers on the playground, we got detention for pretending to shoot each other.”
“That doesn’t seem very fair.” Sky furrows his eyebrows. “Swordfighting was practically encouraged at my school.”
“Well, people have used guns for mass shootings. Lots of people died. Teachers are probably worried about kids getting ideas.”
“Doesn’t your kingdom have laws about getting such a device? Surely they wouldn’t let children have a tool that could harm a person so severely.” Time nudges the fallen Lynel with his boot. It remains lifeless on the ground.
“Well, obviously the government has some laws, like minimum age and stuff.” You nod, partially agreeing with Time. “But if they added too many restrictions, that would interfere with Americans’ right to bear arms.”
“Bear arms!?” Wild perks up, suddenly invested in the conversation. It’s clear he’s not thinking the same thing as you.
“The right to own and use guns,” you explain, and he slumps back down, perhaps saddened by the fact you don’t have government-given pet bears.
“So, let me get this straight.” Warriors pinches the bridge of his nose. “Your world has miniature, hand-held canons that can kill a Lynel in one hit and have historically been used to kill large numbers of civilians. And your royalty do little to control these devices?”
“Woah, man.” You gasp, offended. “America doesn’t have a monarchy. We got rid of the king, like, 200 years ago or something.”
“Got rid of…?” Twilight glances between you and the weapon in your hand. “What do you mean?” The rest of the chain share similar looks of horror.
“Ack, what are you looking at me like that for?” You swat the air with your hand, as if shooing away their ideas of regicide. “King What's-his-face lived across the ocean. We just sent him a very nice letter telling him to shove off, then when he sent soldiers to take back control, we fought them.”
“Right. Because that makes it so much better.” Legend rolls his eyes.
“Hey, at least we didn’t do what the French did!” You huff.
“What did they do?” Sky tilts his head, an innocent question. Shoot. Now you regret bringing that up.
“Welllllll…” You trail off. Maybe talking about the creation of democracy and the abolishment of the monarchy was a bad subject to talk about in a group made up of the Knights of Hyrule or whatever they were called.
“What did they do?” He asks, more serious this time.
“Okay, so from what I remember from history class, they just. Killed them all? Like publically executed every royal and court officail that didn’t flee to another country.” You wince as you speak. The boys’ faces go pale.
“Why would you want to get rid of the royalty? Don’t they have the blood of the goddess? And powers?” Wind scratches his head. That’s right, he had grown up without a monarchy controlling his island. But wasn’t he also friends with a long-lost princess? Honestly, these kids had led more interesting lives than could possibly be good for their mental health.
“No?” You furrow your brows. What did he mean by the blood of the goddess? “The king kept taxing random stuff and soldiers kept forcing themselves into people’s homes. I think they also killed a bunch of colonists one time firing-squad style, but I don’t exactly remember.”
“Oh. You had an evil king.” Time nods, as if finally understanding. Then he turns to the rest of the group, “Like Ganondorf.”
Most of the others nod along.
“Who’s that?” You tip your head to the side, confused. The outrage and utter bewilderment on the chain’s faces catches you off guard. They quickly descend into utter chaos.
“WHAT!?” “HOW DO YOU NOT KNOW!!??” “Does the name Ganon ring any bells?” “You know! The GIANT PIG MONSTER.”
You smile nervously. Maybe you should have just tried using one of their swords instead.
OMG I'M BEGGING FOR THE SECOND PART OF DINK AND READER MEETING
(I'm sorry if it looks aggressive 🥲)
-glitchy
Dink Kidnaps Isekai!Reader (And Regrets it Almost Immediately)
Listen, there is nothing in this world I love more than finally snapping and getting to be mean to someone. Even if that someone is a fictional villain. I have shade to throw, and WILL use this loser as an outlet for that. Please enjoy :]
Part 1 ✿ Part 2 (you are here)
“Sooooo….. I’m not saying I’m opposed, but usually I’d expect a guy to at least take me to dinner first.” You roll your eyes as you struggle against the rope currently binding your arms in front of you.
“What?” The shadowy figure turns to look at you. He had been monologuing. One of his arms was still raised, as if he was about to launch into stereotypical maniacal laughter at any second.
“I’m down to try anything at least once, but I’d prefer the gentlemanly approach.” You try to stand, wobbling as you rise. (Who knew barely using your arms made getting up so much more difficult?) “I guess chivalry really is dead.”
“What are you… OH EW.” The shadow recoils, as if burned by your innuendo. “WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?”
“Buddy, one of us kidnaped a person out of their bedroll and took them home, and it wasn’t me.”
“I didn’t kidnap you for anything like THAT, you sicko! Your knowledge of the universe is too valuable for the heroes to have!” he crossed his arms and stomped his foot to the ground.
“Like that would help them.” You scoff. “I know what happened on their adventures. Meaning all the stuff they ALREADY KNOW ABOUT. Not really useful when dealing with a time-hopping angsty teen made of darkness and daddy issues.” You use one of your hands to motion at him, which is difficult to do with the rope around your wrists.
“Daddy issues?” He pinches the bridge of his nose. You were giving him a migraine simply by existing. “What could you possibly be referring to?”
“I mean, you’re Dink.” You smile as he cringes at your name for him. “The first time you appear in the timeline is during Time’s adventure. Ganondorf made you and you’ve been giving off rancid vibes ever since.”
“That does not mean I have daddy issues.” Dink stares at you, red eyes bright against the shadows of the room. Is he trying to intimidate you? Poor guy. If you weren’t a fanfic-reading, depression-having twenty-something, it might have worked.
“Oh right. Some people headcanon Ganondorf is trans. Mommy issues, then. My mistake.” You smile, pretending to be embarrassed at making such a ‘mistake.’
“What? No! I mean, not that there’s anything wrong with-” Dink sputters, absolutely blind-sided by your statement. He tries to recover. “I don’t have parents! Ganondorf hasn’t been around for thousands of years at this point!”
“See, you say that, but an absence of parents is also mommy/daddy issues.” You put your hand against your hip, trying to prove your point with a pose that would make Regina George jealous. Your tied wrists make the pose less effective, but you do find something interesting: In the confusion of dealing with you after the kidnapping, Dink had apparently forgotten to take away your sword. Your quick tongue had saved you once again!
“It doesn’t apply! I’m not a person, I’m a shadow of Link!”
“Oof.” You smirk, keeping his attention on your words as you begin to subtly drag the rope around your wrists against your blade. “I’ll add that to the list: daddy/mommy issues AND you have a complex about your existence.”
“Wait, that’s not-” Dink’s face is one of utter bewilderment.
“AND ANOTHER THING!” You interrupt him, “Don’t go calling yourself a ‘shadow of Link’ or whatever. Shadow Link is a different character from the Four Swords Adventure Manga, and he was only evil for a little bit. Not like you, Mr. I-Hate-Myself-So-Much-I’m-Going-To-Make-It-Everyone-Else’s-Problem.”
“I don’t hAte myself!” He practically shouts, trying to put you in your place. Trying to get you to shut up. Anything. But his voice cracks, and the darkness around his cheeks deepens.
“Ohhhh.” You pretend to come to a realization, all the while sawing at the rope around your wrists. “No wonder you’re so cranky! Ganondorf made you a seventeen-year-old or something! You’ve been going through puberty for the last few thousand years.”
“nO!” Dink crosses his arms, and you can’t help but notice how thin they are. He really is the splitting image of what you assume Time looked like as a teenager: built like a twig. You suppose being in a coma for seven or so years would do that to someone. He continues trying to regain his dignity. “I can turn into any form. Any Link. Wherever the Hero’s Spirit is, I am there too, as a reminder of everything inside him he is denying. Everything he is hiding from the world to be the knight in shining armor.”
Dink steps behind you for a moment before appearing at your other side with a new face: Hyrule’s. “Your poor friends certainly have a lot on their plate, don’t they?”
You glare at him as he continues his speech. You also subtly coil the now-cut rope around your hand instead of your wrist.
“Of course, there’s everyone to heal. Every scrape and scratch Link must ensure none of the others suffer.” Dink’s form blurs, and when he solidifies he looks like Four. “Every weapon needs to be made and maintained. None of the others are qualified.”
His form changes again, this time to look like Warriors. “And of course there’s managing the rag-tag army you’ve all formed. Supplies and spirits need to be kept high, even if it’s at the expense of the ever-self-sacrificing pretty boy.”
“But how can he defeat evil and save the day if he can’t even control his own head?” Dink smiles wickedly as he takes the form of Wild. He puts his hand up, and you realize he’s managed to back you against a wall. You gulp.
“How long do you figure it will take? Before they realize you don’t contribute anything.” His face changes again, to Time’s, but as he is now: an adult with a scar over his eye, not a gangly teen. “Maybe a few weeks, or even a whole month. But eventually they’ll realize you’re just a fan with nothing to give them but more problems to solve.”
“That’s not true.” You smirk before winding up and socking Dink right in the face. He goes flying backwards. Apparently, shadows don’t weigh all that much. He falls in a heap on the floor, reverting back into his teenage form. “I provide delightful commentary.”
“Sure you do. And what use is that in a fight?” Dink picks himself back up, clutching his nose. Darkness seems to flow down his hand and chin. Did you give him a bloody nose? Was that even possible?
“I mean, it worked on you last time.” You shrug and back away, never taking your eye off him.
“That was lucky timing.” He scoffs. “It won’t happen again.”
“Oh, really?” You smirk, noticing a figure creeping along the wall behind him. Backup has arrived. “Then what do you call this?”
Dink doesn’t have time to react as Four slams his sword down, slicing clean through the shadow. As he does, there is a loud BOOM from above, and the ceiling disappears. Sunlight bathes the room as Legend peers through the new opening, another bomb in his hand. Sky drops into the room, the Master Sword in hand and pointed directly at the puddle of darkness that used to be Dink. It seeps between the stones of the floor, vanishing.
“Y/N!” Twilight runs into the room with Time and Warriors close behind. “Are you okay?”
“Took you guys long enough. I almost had to tell him about the creepypasta fangirls that write smut about him.” You smile. You can see your words do psychic damage to your allies.
It has been A Week and I needed to write something less serious. Reader meets Dink and roasts him.
Part 1 (you are here) ✿ Part 2
It was a stupid idea, really, but it was all you had left. The entity in front of you was running circles around the group. One moment, it was a Lizalfos, jumping away from any attack. Then, it was Darknut, taking every hit as if it was nothing. It would blend into the darkness of the night before leaping out somewhere new.
Dodge. Parry. Dodge. Breathe in. Breathe out. It took everything in you to avoid the weapon the thing before you was wielding. Nobody wanted a repeat of what happened to Twilight. But the fight was going on for too long. Hyrule was running out of magic. You could hear Sky struggling to breathe behind you. It raised its weapon towards Time. He wasn’t going to be able to dodge in time.
So, you did the only thing you could think of. You grabbed your sword. You jumped up. And you smacked the thing on the head. You heard something crack, and the beast fell.
The shadows melted under you, reforming and reshaping. Whatever it was, you had dazed it. The chain surrounded the writing mass of darkness, swords and shields ready for whatever it would become next.
The form solidified. An arm. A head. Legs. It was kneeling, clutching its head with one hand. It turned its face to you, glaring. You recognized this new form.
“DINK???” You exclaimed. The shadow winced, it’s head still throbbing from when you had hit it. Time paled. He recognized this enemy, too.
“What did you just call me?” The shadow growled, but there was no threat. He was too weak from the fight.
“Uhh. Dink?” You shrugged, the grip on your sword loosening somewhat. “It’s what the fans have taken to calling you. Dark. Link. Dink.” Wind snickered at your explanation, and Dink turned to glare at the boy. Wind took a step back, raising his sword to defend against the shadow’s gaze.
“Do NOT call me that.” He stood, and you realized he wasn’t even an adult shadow. It was the same form he took in the Water Temple. Seventeen. Lanky. A threat, for sure, but also…
“What? Dink?” You smiled, making sure to stay out of his range. “Why not?”
“I am the shadows. I am darkness. I am everything the heroes of light are not.” He wobbled on his feet. Had you concussed him? “I am the dark reflect-”
“Uh huh.” You interrupted his speech, rolling your eyes. The sun was just starting to peek over the horizon. Time to stall. “Sure, Dinky. Shadows and darkness and all that emo stuff.” You nodded. Twilight pressed his lips together, trying not to burst out laughing as you mocked the entity. Warriors looked at you like you had grown a second head.
“I am not… Dinky.” Dink took a threatening step towards you. You calmly stepped away from him.
“I dunno, man.” You smiled. “You’re acting pretty annoying, with all the portals and what not. You gotta be compensating for something.” Behind you, Legend wheezed, trying to keep a straight face and failing. Dink stared at you for a moment before the shadows near his cheeks darkened. Was he… blushing?
“You…” He looked around. He was surrounded. There was no getting out of this. He turned to face you again, taking in your relaxed expression. “What is WRONG with you! You’re supposed to fear me!”
“Why?” You made a show of checking your nails, picking the dirt out from under them.
“I am everything the hero stands against!” Dink shouted. “I am the darkness within him!”
“Well, good thing I’m not the hero.” You wink. “The greatest darkness I need to face is working up the courage to call the pizza place for dinner.”
Dink blinked at you. Maybe it was the concussion. Maybe you were just insane. Whatever the case, he had no idea what to say. Usually, the person he was fighting would be shaking with fear at this point.
The sun rose slowly over the horizon, the light filtering through the leaves of the forest. Dink hissed as it hit him, his body disappearing where the sunlight hit him directly. He looked sort of like a very evil (or very moldy) slice of swiss cheese. He looked towards the sunrise, shielding his eyes and wincing.
“I’ll be back.” He glared at you. Then, he sunk down into the ground, disappearing into the shadows still left. The chain watched him disappear.
Time was the first to break the silence. His laughter echoed through the now quiet morning. The others followed suit, some even clutching their stomachs or falling over.
“Y/N, that was bloody brilliant.” Wild gasped in between fits of giggles.
“Well, we weren’t going to win fighting normally.” You blinked. You hadn’t expected this reaction.
“So you chose to use psychological warfare instead?” Hyrule wiped a tear away from his eye.
I would not be able to shut up about Zelda lore. I'd be mentioning the Links the Chain hasn't met yet, or how Ganondorf's hair keeps getting longer with each iteration, and especially the timeline! I'd be turning to Legend and Four and saying that according to Nintendo, they're a bunch of Links conflated together (Four Swords before Time and Adventures after Twilight what???) and then turning to Warriors to say that his game isn't canon to the timeline. SEND HELP
Literally same. I swear I would be the most annoying person ever. I'd be telling them about all the fan theories, giving them all an existential crisis. (Because IMAGINE if Wind found out some people don't think he has the hero's spirit. Or if Sky found out some people think Demise's curse is the reason every other Link had to deal with Ganon.)
This was going to be a short little blurb but... yeah you get a whole two pages. This is what you get for feeding my hyper fixation, anon.
“You know about all our adventures and the impact my actions specifically had on the timeline.” Time’s face was unreadable. His usually serious demeanor had a much colder edge to it. And it was directed at you.
You take a breath. He had been a bit stand-offish when you had joined the group. He had been upset when you spoke about how the chain’s adventures were games in your universe. You suspected he began outright avoiding you after that. You had thought there had been an unspoken but mutual understanding that his games were something not to be spoken of. Nothing could prepare you for this conversation, especially with the rest of the chain within earshot. Still, he had spoken to you. Directly to you. Which was progress, even if the subject matter was… this.
“Yeah.” You try to seem nonchalant. Your voice crack ruins the effect somewhat.
“Explain, then. Knowing how we,” Time motions to the rest of the group, “all fit together might help us face the creature we’ve been fighting.”
“Oh, that might get a bit complicated. Some of the games y’all appear in aren’t canon.” You smile nervously. “And some of you guys seem to be multiple games combined? Like, you have two games, and that makes sense because Majora’s Mask was meant to be a sequel to Ocarina of Time. But, for example, in the official timeline The Minish Cap and Four Swords take place before the timeline split, while Four Swords Adventures happens after it, even though all three games seem to be Four’s adventures.”
“Wait, what?” Four perked up at the mention of his name. “How does that make sense? I used the Four Sword about a year or so after my time with the Picori. How can those two games have things between them?”
“Hoooo boy.” You pressed your lips together, trying to summon the restraint necessary to give a tactful answer. You looked at Time, then Four, then at the rest of the chain, whose attention was focused solely on you. Screw it. They asked.
“The company that created the games, Nintendo, published a book with an official timeline in it. The timeline begins with Skyward Sword, after which Sky and his Zelda kind of found what will eventually become Hyrule and *ahem* start the royal family.” You ramble on, choosing not to comment on the way Sky chokes on his own spit. “Then, the Minish Cap happens. And according to Nintendo, the next game, Four Swords, has a completely different Link. After Four Swords, the events of Ocarina of Time happen, where a TON of time travel shenanigans happen.”
Time coughs. You keep talking.
“During Ocarina of Time, Time defeated Ganondorf as a teenager. His Zelda then sent him back in time to prevent Ganondorf from ever getting the Triforce in the first place, but this didn’t erase the other timeline. Thus, there are two timelines: Time’s original that he was removed from and the new one where Ganondorf was never really an issue.”
You get out a stick, drawing lines in the dirt to illustrate your point.
“Now, in the timeline that Time left, Ganondorf eventually came back. That’s what set’s up the events of Wind Waker and Phantom Hourglass. Also in this timeline is a game called Spirit Tracks. The Link from that game isn’t here, but Wind’s Zelda’s granddaughter is that Link’s Zelda.”
“WAIT WHAT?” Wind shouted, temporarily snapping you out of your rant. Oh shoot. How long have you been rambling? You turned your attention to Wind.
“What’s up, sailor?” You point at him with the stick in your hand, as if you were a school teacher lecturing on a subject and not a gamer with way too much free time.
“Tetra had KIDS?” Wind scrunches his face up, as if disgusted by the thought of his best friend reproducing.
“Yes, that is how grandchildren work.” You tap your stick against the end of the line you had drawn. “Anyway, that’s about it for that timeline. As far as I know, Wind stabbing Ganondorf in the face actually killed the guy for once.”
“Wait, WIND is the one who actually finished off Ganon?” Legend pipes up.
“Why do you sound so surprised!?” Wind fires back indignantly.
“MOVING ON!” You shout, redirecting the group's attention back to you. “In the timeline Time went back to and fixed, he has another game, Majora’s Mask. He then settles down and has a kid, who has a kid, etc. etc., then we get Twilight and his game, Twilight Princess. Time is kind of a dickwad in that game, but we don’t have time to unpack that.”
“Hold on.” Time puts up a hand, trying to stop you from continuing. He looks… extremely worried. Twilight looks as if he just swallowed a frog.
“Nope, moving on!” You use your stick to quickly lower Time’s arm. “Twilight actually also killed Ganondorf, but the bastard went and got resurrected. Vaati also shows up again randomly, and that’s how Four Swords Adventures happens.”
“What about me and Legend?” Hyrule raises his hand politely.
“Ah, you guys are from a timeline where Time died in his final fight with Ganondorf.”
“I’M SORRY WHAT?” Twilight and Time shout at almost the same time.
“Yep. That’s what started the Sealing War. Time’s Zelda and the sages sealed Ganondorf away. Then we have Legend’s games, which have two different orders, both of which were published by Nintendo. It either goes A Link to the Past, Oracle of Seasons/Ages, then Link's Awakening, or Link’s Awakening, then Oracle of Seasons/Ages.”
“Why the different order? Doesn’t ‘Nintendo’ know?” Legend smirks, as if he had won against this strange other-worldly company that had reduced him to a child’s game.
“Well, they published the first version, but because Link’s Awakening was the last game for you, fans thought you died at sea.” You explain. Legend’s smirk disappears as the color drains from his face.
“Anyway, according to Nintendo, the next game is A Link Between Worlds, which is a different Link. After that, it’s Hyrule’s games: The Legend of Zelda and The Legend of Zelda 2: The Adventure of Link. Then that’s it for the downfall timeline.”
“What about me?” Wild sheepishly points to himself.
“Nobody knows. Nintendo says they’re after Four Swords Adventures OR Spirit Tracks. Personally, I think after FSA makes more sense, but we DEFINITELY shouldn’t get into theory territory right now.”
“I’m guessing my game is the same? No clear timeline placement because of all the different timelines mixing together?” Warriors rolls his eyes as he says it, as if annoyed he doesn’t have an official timeline placement.
“No, actually. Your entire game was more fanservice than anything. Nintendo doesn’t even consider it canon.”
“WHAT?”
^ Y/N explaining the timeline to the chain be like
Hello, i loved all your LU scenarios, specially the ones where the chain reacts to their games, they were so well written.
I was wondering if you could do some scenarios where the reader talks about some Zelda trivia with the chain, like the development of some games (Majoras mask was made in just one year and the director of Zelda don't like it, there were supposed to be more dungeons in Wind Waker) or the reception of their releases (Four swords adventures sold less than a million copies, WW was poorly recieved unlike TP for it's art style, this changed as time passed, etc.), perhaps some easter eggs or cameos (Talon and Ingo looks like Mario and Luigi, Link appears in other games as a cameo).
Okay, but why is this lowkey me 😭. My autistic ass would NOT shut up about their games, even if I was telling them stuff they didn't want to hear about.
It was a peaceful day. The chain had found an inn to stay at for the night. Nobody was injured. Supplies and spirits were high. Until Wind decided to ask you a question.
“So, if our adventures are games, does that mean you know everything that happened during them? Like everyone we met, everything we did, EVERYTHING?” Wind asked. Some of the other Links brustled, clearly uncomfortable with the question and what you might say. You smile nervously.
“Basically? But you don’t talk in the games, so I don’t know anything you said.”
“But who made the games? How do they know about our adventures?” Wind asked.
“Oooh boy.” You scratched the back of your head, “There’s a company called Nintendo, they made most of the Legend of Zelda games. I think Four’s games were made by a different company, though. That’s why some of the details are a bit screwy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean!?” Four snapped his head up to look at you, forgetting the weapon he had been working on.
“Oh, uh…” you stammered, “Well, the other company made your games, but they didn’t use the same stories as Nintendo did, so the lore gets a bit weird. Like, your Ganon is probably a completely unrelated guy from the Ganon that Time, Wind, Hyrule, Legend, and Twilight all had to deal with. The way he randomly turns into a pig in your game after getting that trident or whatever doesn’t match up at all with how Ganondorf turns into a pig after being sealed away by Time’s Zelda in an alternate timeline where Time dies during the final battle.”
“Wait, there’s a timeline where Time DIED?” Twilight is behind you now, and you’re not sure when he got there. You turn to look at him, his face full of panic.
“Yeah, Ocarina of Time kind of broke the timeline into three different paths. The game was so popular it became, like, the most important part of the timeline. It actually sold so well that the people who made the game made a sequel to it, Majora’s Mask, in under a year, which is kind of insane. For context, Ocarina of Time took over twice that long to make.” Time raised an eyebrow at your explanation, but decided he didn’t want to know more.
“Wait, if there are multiple timelines, how can you know which of our adventures are ours and which were just really similar? The many timelines means there’s infinite possibilities.” Sky asked, reminding everyone that he was the only Link to ever attend school (and remember it), and apparently he studied multiverse theory???? Moving on.
“Well, there are some differences between languages, I guess? Like, in the English version of Link’s Awakening, there’s a quest to get a mermaid’s lost necklace, but that was just a change the translators made. In the original Japanese, the quest is to get the mermaid’s bikini top.” You chatter on, missing the blush that creeps up Legend’s neck and ears. “And some of the items in Wind Waker are mixed around between the English and Japanese versions. Like maps, heart containers, and rupees are in each other's spots.”
“Can we go back to the part where there’s multiple Ganons, apparently?” Wild gripped the edge of the table, his knuckles white. You hadn’t notice him sit down. Actually, the whole chain seemed to be listening now. Wuh-oh.
“Oh, well, not at one time. Unless the dragon cutscenes from Tears of the Kingdom happen after Skyward Sword and Breath of the Wild is after all the other games. Then, Calamity Ganon was just kind of… chilling under Hyrule Castle while Four and Time dealt with their respective Ganons. But fans still argue about where your games fit on the timeline.” You shrug, trying to downplay how absolutely terrifying dealing with two Ganons at once would be.
“Wait, why do fans argue? Isn’t there an official timeline?” Hyrule asked. You groan.
“Yes, but it was published before Breath of the Wild was released, so we need to figure out where it is on the timeline based on the stuff in game, which is hard, because there's so many easter eggs.”
“Easter… eggs?” Warriors tilts his head.
“Items or decorations that reference other games. Like, in A Link Between Worlds, Legend’s house has Majora’s Mask hanging on the wall for no discernable reason. And in Breath of the Wild, there’s areas named after places in Link’s Awakening, like Koholit Rock and Goponga Island, which makes no sense because those places were dreamt up by a wind fish. Not to mention the fact the ruins of Lon Lon Ranch can be found, but there’s no way that structure would have been in as good of condition as it is for how old it is. And Lurelin village is an almost exact copy of Outset Island, but again, the timing is just too far apart.”
“But you never answered my other question.” Wind tapped your shoulder, stopping what would have been an hour-long rant on where Wild’s games fit on the official timeline. “How did ‘Nintendo’ or whoever else know about our adventures with that much detail?”
“UHHHHHH………. OH WOULD YOU LOOK AT THE TIME.” You quickly stand up from the table and launch yourself out the nearest window, escaping the conversation. (You were on the first floor. You’re fine).
Part 2 includes Legend, Hyrule, and Twilight
Part 1 ✿ Part 2 (you are here) ✿ Part 3
Duck. Dodge. Punch. Repeat.
The wizzrobe before you was growing incredibly frustrated. Most of its spells seemed to simply glance off of you with no effect. Others simply stung, leaving angry red marks where they touched your skin. You socking it in the face repeatedly probably just upset it further.
You were different from your traveling companions. Your ears were round. You had never wielded a sword. Magic seemed to have no effect on you. Oh, and you could bench press a Lynel without breaking a sweat.
Link swung his sword, slashing at the wizzrobe’s back. The thing cried out, flying up toward the ceiling of the room.
How had it gotten like this? The chain had entered the dungeon together, but now it was only you and Link. You hadn’t even seen them leave. You had been talking with Link, and when you turned around, the rest of the chain was simply. Gone.
The wizzrobe muttered something to itself in its strange language. It held its hands in front of itself, and you realized, perhaps too late, that it was chanting something. An orb of dark energy appeared between its palms. You didn’t even have time to think when it flung the spell at Link. You just knew whatever it was would be bad news if it hit him. You sprinted towards him, trying to get between him and the spell. Unfortunately, you were just a bit too slow. The energy hit your back, but you weren’t able to shield Link completely. You aren’t sure where it hit him, but right now it felt like your bones were on fire.
You screamed, falling to the floor. Behind you, the wizzrobe snickered, and you heard the damned thing teleport away. Great. Groaning, you got up. You muscles screamed at you in protest, demanding a break you couldn’t give them yet.
“Ugh, stupid wizzrobe,” you sigh before deciding to check in on your traveling partner. “You okay?”Your voice sounded weird. Had your ears popped? Man, that spell had hurt.
Legend
The room feels strangely quiet now. You look around, only to find a second you in the room with you, lying face-down on the floor nearby. Your heat jumps into your throat as they lift themselves up on their elbows. Before you can ask who they are (and why they have your face), an utterly filthy series of curses, insulting the wizzrobe, the dungeon’s architects, and the absent chain, falls from their lips.
You know exactly who that is.
“Legend?”
“Yeah?” He rubs his head. Well, your head, but you suppose it’s his for now. He hasn’t looked at you yet, but you can only assume that if he’s in your body, you must be… well.
“Try not to freak out.” Your request is met with a puzzled look, followed by another string of curses as he jumps to his feet. His hand moves to where his sword should be… only your outfit doesn’t have a sword (the flimsy Hylian metal bends in your hands). So much for not freaking out.
“Y/N???” He sputters your name, flabbergasted, then winces. “Ack. Why is the room so echo-y now?”
“What are you talking about?” You strain to listen to the room. It’s still almost eerily quiet. You can’t quite place it, but you feel an emptiness in the air. Like something is missing.
“That!” Legend clutches his ears, trying to block out the noises of the room. “Every time we talk it echoes in the room about a million times! And there’s a pounding noise that won’t stop! How can you not hear that?”
“Wait… what’s the pounding noise sound like?” You ask hesitantly. You have a sinking feeling that you already knew the answer.
“It’s kind of like… da dum… da dum… Like a drum or something.” He keeps his hands clasped tightly over his ears.
“Oh. Oh!” You realize what was missing. Why the room felt far too quiet. “You have my hearing now! You can hear my heartbeat!”
“You can hear people’s heartbeats!?” His cheeks turn the slightest shade of pink at the revelation. Unfortunately, his own voice echoes off the walls of the room, causing him to curl into himself, tightening his grip over his ears.
“Shoot. Sorry, this is gonna take some getting used to.” You pat his back. You remember how hard it was when you had first come to Hyrule. Everything seemed louder and sharper and smellier. Not to mention your strength.
“How on earth can you deal with hearing everything all the time?” Legend groans, his voice quiet in an attempt to spare his poor ears.
“Here,” you pull the bag on his back open just enough to fish around inside and grab what you need. You slip the headphones over his head, and almost immediately he relaxes. “I use these to sleep sometimes. They block out some noise, but not all of it.”
“I am never yelling at you again,” he adjusts the headphones on his head, ensuring they properly cover his ears. “This is pure torture.”
“Oh! That reminds me!” You reach into your new bag. The magical trinkets Legend carries around glitter inside. You pull out the first thing that catches your eye: a red stick with a ball on the end. You have no idea what it does. “Now that I’m not human I can use these things!”
“Hey! Those are mine!”
“You took my body, I take your junk, you hoarder!”
“Y/N!”
“>:]”
Hyrule
Your entire body is buzzing, as if you had rubbed your socks on the carpet and then touched a piece of metal. That wasn’t good. The spell had hit Hyrule, too, and he hadn’t responded to your question yet. You turn to look for him, only to come face to face with a terrified-looking copy of yourself.
“Ack!” You jump backwards, fists ready for a fight. As if responding to your panic, the static feeling intensifies. The other you scrambles to their feet and tries to grab something off their back. When their hand finds nothing but air, they pause, shooting a quizzical look over their shoulder. Then they look down at their clothes and squawk in surprise.
“Y/N?” The other you asks. Against your better judgement, you nod. “Umm… look down?”
You do as the other you asks, only to discover something horribly wrong: you’re wearing Hyrule’s clothes.
And skin.
You are Hyrule now.
“What!?” You look at the other you. “Hyrule?”
He waves sheepishly. “The spell must have swapped our bodies. Don’t worry, this kind of magic usually wears off on its own.”
“Darn it,” you slump your shoulders forward. You liked your body. Hyrule’s was pretty good, but you’d much rather look at his than be in it.
“Sorry,” he gives you an apologetic smile.
“It’s not your fault,” you drag a hand down your face. The buzzing in your veins continues. “Your body just feels weird. It’s all tingle-ly and stuff.”
“Tingle-ly?” Hyrule repeats, puzzled. Unfortunately, you don’t have time to explain further as the wizzrobe makes it’s presence known again, laughing with glee as it teleports beside you.
Without wasting a moment, you punch it, just as you had been doing before. You hand connects with its face, but this time, pain explodes out from your knuckles.
“Owwww,” you wince, holding your injured hand close to your chest. That’s right. Fragile Hylian bones.
“Hyah!” Hyrule holds his hands out towards the wizzrobe.
Nothing happens.
Suddenly, his eyes widen and he looks at his new hands with a growing sense of dread. “I can’t feel my magic at all.”
That was to be expected. Most magic didn’t seem to affect you, which also meant you couldn’t use it. Still, for Hyrule, being separated from it, even for a short period of time, must have been strange.
Wait… if he had your lack of magic… did that mean?
You snap your fingers experimentally, sticking your tongue out in concentration as you try to mimic what you’d seen Hyrule do dozens of times. A small spark of electricity dances between your fingers.
“Sick,” the smile that makes its way on your face can only be described as deranged. You turn to look at the wizzrobe, who appears to be slowly backing away from you in fear.
“Y/N?” Hyrule asks. The magic thrums in your veins, the static feeling intensifying in your hands as you call forth more electricity.
“I’ve always wanted to try this,” you giggle. Then, you chuck the ball of lighting from your hand directly at the wizzrobe. It falls to the floor in a pile.
“Woah! Careful, don’t use up all my magic!” Hyrule warns.
“Aww, but it’s so cool,” you pout. “I’m never going to be able to do this again! Can’t I have just a little fun with it?”
“...”
“Please~?”
“...Fine.”
Twilight
“I’m alright,” Twilight mumbles. His voice sounds… different. You turn your head, trying to look at him, only to get a face-full of something hairy. Your heart skips a beat as you try to attack whatever animal suddenly attached itself to your face. Your arms feel heavy and sluggish as you throw the creature to the floor. When you finally get a good look at it, you realize it’s not an animal at all. It’s a pelt. Specifically the one that Twilight is supposed to be wearing right now.
“Dang. I didn’t think my fashion choices offended you that much,” he laughs. His voice still sounds weird. You spin on your heel to face him and find, not Twilight, but yourself looking back. They smirk and wave.
“...Twilight?” You ask. You’re afraid to know the answer. When he nods, you’re only left with more questions. You decide to start with just one: “How?”
“I’m guessing the wizzrobe swapped our minds,” he shrugs, as if this were only the fifth weirdest thing he had seen that day. “Weird. I thought magic didn’t affect you.”
“Swap?” You look down. Sure enough, you’re Twilight now, complete with green tunic and weird pinecone-looking necklace full of dark magic. You reach down to pick up the cloak that you had so violently discarded a few moments ago, wrinkling your nose at the wet dog smell that greets your nose. It takes more effort than you expect to lift it. Strange. Twilight looked muscular enough. Were Hylians really that much weaker than humans? Still, it was strange that the spell had affected you at all. You try to respond to Twilight’s statement, but the smell wafting from the cloak distracts you. “Must have been a pretty powerful spell– I’m sorry, but when was the last time you washed this?”
“I washed it… recently,” he refuses to meet your gaze, and you can practically hear the sweat drip down the back of his neck. You raise an eyebrow at him.
“I’m using this as an opportunity to do your laundry. Smelling you from across camp was bad enough, but how can you live like this, man?” You pick at his tunic (well, your tunic, for now). Somehow it also smells like a wet dog. Actually, now that you think about it, maybe Twilight’s body is the thing that smells like a dog, because the scent seems to cling to you in an almost unnatural way.
“You cannot smell me from across camp,” he blushes, offended.
“Yes, I can,” you grimace, still examining your new clothing. Did he roll through a mud puddle? No, it hadn’t rained in a while. Where did all this dirt come from? “One of the perks of being a human. Sensitive nose. And ears. And eyes.”
“Huh. Now that you mention it, it does feel like when I’m in wolf form,” he sounds surprised. Oh yeah, his wolf form. Is that why his body smelled like a dog? Surely, he bathed since last transforming, right?
“Glad it’s you and not one of the others, then. Can you imagine the cow Legend would have if he could suddenly smell Wild,” you snicker. Twilight looks shocked for a moment before breaking out in laughter.
“Oh man, he’d never shut up,” he chuckles, but the expression looks alien on your face. You already miss the way his nose would scrunch up when he laughs. Hopefully this swap would be a short one.
I've seen some body swaps floating around, but I think it would be funny if reader was also a Space Orc Human :]
Part 1 includes Sky, Four, and Time
Part 1 (you are here) ✿ Part 2 ✿ Part 3
Duck. Dodge. Punch. Repeat.
The wizzrobe before you was growing incredibly frustrated. Most of its spells seemed to simply glance off of you with no effect. Others simply stung, leaving angry red marks where they touched your skin. You socking it in the face repeatedly probably just upset it further.
You were different from your traveling companions. Your ears were round. You had never wielded a sword. Magic seemed to have no effect on you. Oh, and you could bench press a Lynel without breaking a sweat.
Link swung his sword, slashing at the wizzrobe’s back. The thing cried out, flying up toward the ceiling of the room.
How had it gotten like this? The chain had entered the dungeon together, but now it was only you and Link. You hadn’t even seen them leave. You had been talking with Link, and when you turned around, the rest of the chain was simply. Gone.
The wizzrobe muttered something to itself in its strange language. It held its hands in front of itself, and you realized, perhaps too late, that it was chanting something. An orb of dark energy appeared between its palms. You didn’t even have time to think when it flung the spell at Link. You just knew whatever it was would be bad news if it hit him. You sprinted towards him, trying to get between him and the spell. Unfortunately, you were just a bit too slow. The energy hit your back, but you weren’t able to shield Link completely. You aren’t sure where it hit him, but right now it felt like your bones were on fire.
You screamed, falling to the floor. Behind you, the wizzrobe snickered, and you heard the damned thing teleport away. Great. Groaning, you got up. You muscles screamed at you in protest, demanding a break you couldn’t give them yet.
“Ugh, stupid wizzrobe,” you sigh before deciding to check in on your traveling partner. “You okay?”
Your voice sounded weird. Had your ears popped? Man, that spell had hurt.
Sky
“Um, Y/N?” You hear a voice say. It sounds vaguely familiar, but it definitely wasn’t any of the Links, especially not the one you had been with during the fight. You whip your head towards the speaker, only to be met with your own face.
You look at the thing wearing your face. Generally speaking, things that took your likeness were bad news. You mind races with different possibilities. Shadow clone? Skinwalker? Mirror dimension? You brace for a fight, only to feel an unfamiliar weight in your hand. Strange. You look down, wondering if you had picked something up without noticing.
Was that the freaking Master Sword????
You look at the sword in your hand, then down at your clothes. This is not the outfit you put on this morning, but you recognize it. Green tunic. White cape. You put a hand to your mouth in shock, but then you feel a structure that is very much not your face under your fingertips.
“Sky???” You turn to the thing with your face and it grimaces.
“Present.” He smiles, one of the corners of his (your?) mouth slightly higher than the other. The expression is cuter when it’s on his face, you think.
“What.” You motion at him (you??). He shrugs.
“I have no idea. My best guess is that the wizzrobe swapped us? Like now I’m in your body?” Sky looks down at his new form, turning to examine his new arms. He furrowed his eyebrows and pokes at his bicep. “Wow. I never realized how big your muscles are. I feel like I could pick up Epona, now.”
You feel your new face grow hot at his comment. Oh, but that did remind you.
“Uhh, do you want Fi back?” You hold the sword out to him, only to be shocked by how much effort it takes to hold it up with your arm fully extended. Thankfully, Sky takes it.
“Thanks.” He points to the room’s entrance, currently blocked by the metal bars that had swung into place right after you had entered the room and shortly before the wizzrobe had attacked. “Guess we’re stuck for a while.”
“What do you mean?” You give him a quizzical look. He gives you one back.
“The only door to the room is locked. Normally, it would open when we defeated the monster in the room, but I think it… left?”
“Just bend the bars.” You grin.
“Bend the giant metal bars? With what?” He glances around the room, searching perhaps for a tool you had seen that he hadn’t. The room is empty.
“You’ve got my body now!” You laugh. “If this place was made by anything that lives in Hyrule, Lorule, Termina, etc., it should be a piece of cake! Honestly, all your buildings are so fragile it’s a headache to not ruin stuff when we go into a town.”
“Wait, really?” Sky tilts his head. “You’re that strong?”
“You have seen me punch a hole through a guardian from Wild’s era with my bare hands.” You deadpan. He nods nervously, places the Master Sword in its sheath, and grabs the bars. As expected, the metal bends with almost no effort on Sky’s part. He pauses for a moment, as if shocked by his strength. You skip past him.
“Come on! Let’s go find the others. I bet Rulie can fix this. I do not like being this short.” You smirk.
“Hey! I’ll have you know I’m above average height for a Hylian! You’re just freakishly tall!” He laughs, following you down the hall.
Four
“Peachy,” someone says. Strange. That voice sounds vaguely familiar, but it certainly wasn’t Four’s. You look up, only to be inches away from your own face. Both you and the… other you? yelp, jumping backwards. You land less than gracefully on your butt.
“Ow,” you groan, rubbing your tailbone. Weird. Since when did hitting the ground hurt so much?
“Who are you?” The other you stares at you, eyes wide.
“Me? You’re the one wearing my face! Who the heck are you?” You scowl.
“I didn’t split, did I?” The other you looks confused. “No, can’t be. The Four Sword is right-” They reach up, as if to grab a sword from their back. But you’ve never worn a sword on your back, and whatever the thing was had copied your entire outfit, including your lack of a weapon. The other you curses, turning to look behind itself. Looking for something?
You decide it doesn’t matter. Now’s your chance to overpower it. If it’s just an illusion, it should be easy to grapple the thing and force it to tell you where the heck Four and the wizzrobe went. If it’s a perfect copy, it might be a bit harder, but that’s a future you problem.
“What did you do with Four you weird Skinwalker wannabe!” You cry, flinging yourself at the other you. Then you feel yourself hitting the wall. What?
Your head spins as you slide to the floor, struggling to take air into your lungs. You see the other you, a shocked expression on its face. One of its arms was raised. It must have thrown you off as soon as it felt you grab it. So it had copied your strength. Great.
“Wait… Y/N???” The other you’s mouth hangs open. It slowly approaches, and you pull yourself to your feet. You’re barely taller than its waist. Oh. Oh no.
“Four???” You need to crane your neck to look at his (your?) face. You quickly decide that being short is horrible and you would like to go back to being at least a head taller than everyone else in Hyrule. Even if you kept bruising your forehead on low doorways.
“Oh, thank Hylia.” He laughs, swiping the hair away from his face. “For a second I thought there was another me again.”
“What do you mean ‘again’?” You cross your arms.
“Long story.” He smiles.
“Don’t tell me you have an evil clone of yourself, too.” You groan. “Time’s is bad enough. I don’t want to deal with two.”
“Oh, no. Well, not any more, I don’t think.” He looks at the ground. “Although I do wonder where he’s gone, given the situation.”
You look at the ground he’s staring at. Nothing particularly interesting, just stones. The torch behind you makes your shadow stretch across the floor. Before you can ask what he’s even talking about, your shadow waves.
“What the heck!?” You jump back, as if that would separate you from your own shadow.
“Huh. I guess he’s your problem now.” Four chuckles. Your shadow makes a rude gesture. Four makes one back.
“Please tell me I’m hallucinating.” You sigh. Was his shadow alive? How was that even possible? You missed home, where magic was confined to books and movies and shadows obeyed the laws of physics. “This is some Peter Pan type BS, right here.”
“It’ll be fine.” Four waves his hand, shooing away your comment like a bothersome fly. “I’m sure this is temporary.”
“Fine.” You nod at the shadow. “Nice to meet you, I guess. I would have introduced myself earlier if Four had told me you existed.” You shoot the Hylian in question a scolding look.
“Sorry. There was just never a good time to bring it up.” He winces. Outside of the room, down the hallway, you hear the unmistakable sound of wizzrobe laughter. If you kill that stupid thing, maybe the spell will reverse.
“We can talk about this after I get my body back.” You motion towards the laughter. “Let’s go. Being short sucks.”
“Hey!”
Time
“I’m alright.” You hear a voice say. It’s not Time’s, but you’re so disoriented you can’t seem to care. Your head is swimming and your vision seems funny. Not blurry. Just… off. Like a part is missing. You reach up, touching your face, and freeze.
One of your eyes is closed, and you can feel the ridges of an old scar tracing over your eyelid and down your cheek. It’s not your face, but you know exactly who it does belong to. You look up, only to see your own face staring back.
“Great.” You groan, picking yourself up off the ground and dusting off your legs. The armor you're wearing clinks against itself quietly, the weight unfamiliar on your shoulders. “Just great.”
“What am I looking at?” Time asks with your voice. You cringe.
“We got swapped.” You hold out your hand to help him off the floor. He takes it. His grip is crushing, and you pull away, causing him to fall back down. “Ack! Dude, watch the hand!”
“Sorry. I’m not used to… this.” He trails off as he watches you pry the now very bent metal piece off of the glove on your hand.
“It’s fine.” You lie. Your hand throbs, and there’s a non-zero chance that he just broke one of your (his?) bones. “Just be careful, okay? You Hylians are kind of delicate.” You hold out your other hand.
“What is that supposed to mean?” He raises an eyebrow, but gingerly grabs your hand and hoists himself to his feet.
“I have picked all nine of you up, at once, on more than one occasion. You guys are light and I’m strong,” you remind him. “You do realize I need to be careful not to break, like, all of the bones in your body, right?”
“I hadn’t thought about that.” He frowns and looks down at his new body. “It does feel like I’m wearing multiple power bracelets.”
“That’s not even the worst part about being human.” You chuckle. “Wait til you realize you can’t eat half the food Wild makes now.”
“Wait, really?” Time looks utterly perplexed. “I had no idea! Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Like I needed to give you more gray hairs.” You pick up a chunk of bangs to illustrate your point. “It’s fine.”
“We will be discussing this later.” He sighs, massaging his temples. Somehow, he makes even your voice sound like a tired dad’s. “One thing at a time, though. Let’s see if we can find that wizzrobe and reverse this. Or at least get out and consult the traveler on this magic.”
Suddenly, a horrible idea pops into your head.
“Orrrr…”
“Or what?” He raises an eyebrow.
“How long do you think it would take them to notice we swapped?” You watch the gears turn in Time’s head as he thinks about your idea. You’re half worried he’s about to scold you, but then a downright evil grin graces his face.
“I bet we could get away with it for a few hours, at least.”
The boys have a bet. You're determined to punish them for roping you into it.
(Based on the Hear Me Out Cake trend. All characters were submitted by you lovely readers.)
“You grew up playing our games, right?” Wind asks. He has a mischievous smile on his face. “Who’s your favorite?”
“Aww, I could never choose my favorite Link. You nine are all equally a pain in the butt!” You laugh and ruffle Wind’s hair. It’s not even a lie, really. Sure, you prefer some games over others, but how could you possibly choose a favorite?
“Come on, spill!” Legend pipes up, “I got money on this!” Ah. So that was what this was all about. Glancing around, you’re disappointed to see that all the Links are listening in, no doubt all part of the betting pool.
“I mean it. Find someone else to rope into your gambling addiction.” You shake your head at the boys’ antics.
“What about other people?” Hyrule smiles innocently, “what other… uh, characters were your favorite?” It’s an innocent question, but you know it’s dark motive. The boys would simply tally how many people from their games you liked and declare that game the winner. Fine. If that’s how they wanted to be.
“I mean. I had a crush on Beedle when I was in middle school.”
“That guy that likes bugs?” Wild, Wind, and Sky all ask at the same time. They look between each other, surprised for a moment. You can see the gears turning in their heads. How on earth were they supposed to count that? One point each? Unless you meant only one of the Beedles?
“Yeah. He would love me if I was a worm.” You nod sagely, as if the boys would have any idea what that meant.
“Interesting taste.” Warriors snorts, “Any others we should know about? Maybe we can introduce you when we visit our eras.” He elbows your side playfully, but over his shoulder, you can see Four trying to sneakily add tally marks to a piece of paper. They were keeping score. Time to have some fun.
“The King of Red Lions. Boat form.”
“WHAT.” Wind gawks. “Y/N. Y/N, that’s a boat.”
“That’s not even the worst one.” You grin evilly. “I was a very cringe child.”
“What could be worse than having a crush on a literal boat?” Sky grimaces. You think for a moment.
“Batreaux. When he’s a bat. Oh, and Ghirahim, but I think that’s just a given.”
“I’m sorry I even asked.” He cringes.
“Let’s see… who else?” You rack your brain, trying to come up with characters that you had a crush on. There were honestly too many to count. What can you say? Nintendo makes some fine men.
“I’m almost scared to know.” Wild smirks, clearly having fun with this. Oh, that reminds you.
“The Satori was pretty cute.” You say, and Wild falls off the stump he had been perched on.
“The Lord of the Mountain!?” He sputters, “Y/N that’s a GOD.”
“Eh, he’s not the first deity I had a crush on.” You wave your hand dismissively.
“What other deity did you have a crush on?” Sky raises an eyebrow. As the resident Hylia-“enjoyer” he would question you, wouldn’t he?
“Chill, dude. I don’t have a crush on your girlfriend.” Before his cheeks have time to turn pink you continue. “I was talking about Fierce Deity.”
Time begins choking on his own spit. Warriors pats him on the back, but gives you a look somewhere between disgust and disappointment.
“Don’t give me that look!” You cry. “I haven’t even started talking about all the hot villains! You’ll have plenty of time to look at me like that once I actually give you a reason to!”
“Hot villains? Don’t tell me you had a crush on Ganon.” Hyrule wrinkles up his nose in disgust.
“Of course not!” You put a hand on your chest, as if offended by the implication. “I have standards, Rulie.”
“...”
“Ganondorf on the other hand…”
“Please stop.” Hyrule grimaces.
“Y/N. Please tell me you had a crush on one normal person.” Legend begs.
“Does the Happy Mask Salesman count?” You smile. “I love his little laugh.”
“No. No it does not and you know that.” Time sighs and buries his face in his hands.
“Rusl?”
“No! He’s like my dad!” Twilight gasps. He looks personally offended. What? It’s not your fault Twi’s father figure had you saying daddy.
“Fine,” you sigh, “what about Vaati? He’s cute. That’s not weird, right?”
“Which version of Vaati?” Four sounds tired. He has long since given up trying to record your answers for whatever bet the boys had tried using you for.
“...”
“Y/N. Which version of Vaati?”
“...I think you know it’s not his Minish or Hylian form.” You laugh. Four, like Time, buries his face in his hands.
“Okay, surely you have one person that isn’t a boat or a god or a monster.” Legend rubs his temples. Are your antics giving him a headache? Serves him right, you suppose.
“Oh! Do Dark Link or Shadow Link count as normal crushes? They’re cute.” You explain. Four and Time both shoot their heads up, their faces bright pink.
“You had a crush on DARK LINK!?!” Twilight sputters, “As in, the guy that’s been dragging us across time? The guy that stabbed me???”
“That was before I knew him.” You grimace at the reminder of Twi’s wound. Unfortunately, the moment of silence is short-lived.
“Wait, does this mean I won the bet?” Four’s cheeks and the tips of his ears are still dusted pink, but he seems a bit smug now, too. Shoot. Why had you said Shadow Link was cute? That’s basically calling Four cute, too!
“Actually, I think it goes to Time.” Legend counts out on his fingers, trying to remember all the… interesting… comments you had made. “They listed the Fierce Deity and Dark Link.”
“Dang it.” You groan, a blush creeping into your own face.
“You should know better than to try and stop our betting pools, Y/N.” Warriors winks as he collects a rather large pouch from Wind.
“I hate every single one of you.”
Honorable Mentions that I couldn't find a good place to add:
I love your ideas for isekai reader! but what about a reader who is a professional or hardcore gamer? in the sense that will probably finish the videogames with the minimum of items or with lower level weapons
all this based on my friend's experience, who when he completed final fantasy discovered that the weapons could be improved or that there were more powerful weapons to defeat the bosses
—————
the chain: this enemy is very difficult, we should upgrade our weapons and come back later-
Gamer reader: the life bar moved, it can bleed
the chain: ...b-but this enemy attacks from very close range-
Gamer reader: then attack from afar
gamer reader: If the enemy can bleed, it can die
As a certified baby that can't complete any game without a walkthrough, this is absolutely not my lived experience. It takes a special kind of crazy to do that. /pos
The battle was fierce. The monster was strong. The HP bar, something that apparently only you could see, hadn’t moved an inch. Honestly, it felt like you were playing Souls again.
You were no stranger to tough fights. What made this one different was the fact that you were actually in the fight, as opposed to controlling a game character. Getting up close and personal with a monster sure did change some things.
“We need to fall back!” Time yells over the sound of swords clattering uselessly against the monster’s thick skin. “Champion, cover us!”
Wild obeys, pulling out his Sheika Slate and sending chains of energy towards the beast. It will only keep it in stasis for a few seconds, but it was better than nothing. Sky lands one more hit as he flees and you see it: the health bar moves. It probably only lost 1 hp, but it was better than nothing. A few thousand more hits like that, and it would fall, no problem!
“The health bar moved!” you excitedly tell Time and Warriors as you sprint away through the forest.
“Congratulations?” Wars looks at you in confusion.
“That means we can beat it!” you insist. “We just need to get a few more good hits in and it’s toast!”
“We can come back after we upgrade our weapons,” Time decides. “The monster is too powerful to take on at the moment. We were barely able to get away as it is.”
“But we damaged it!” you try again.
“Not enough. We need to do more damage in a shorter amount of time if we stand any chance at beating that thing.” Legend pipes up, and you glare daggers at him. He wasn’t even part of this conversation! What was he doing, butting in and sharing his completely incorrect idea?
“Are you talking about the little nick I gave it?” Sky asks, coming to run alongside you. “I’d hardly call that damage. It barely bled.”
“If it can bleed, it can die.” You mutter. This was getting you nowhere. Fine. If they wouldn’t listen to reason, you’d finish the job yourself. Without so much as a goodbye, you turn on your heel and begin sprinting back through the trees towards the monster.
In your haste, you nearly mow over Four and Wind. Four curses as you pass by, momentarily thrown off balance. Wind somehow puts Four to shame with his own expletives.
“Where are you going?” You hear a voice call after you. “Do you have a freaking death wish!?”
You ignore it and keep running.
The monster is exactly where you left it.
You steady your breathing as it locks eyes with you. It charges. You roll. Your sword strikes against its side as you dodge.
-1 hp.
The best slams its fist into the ground, trying to squash you. It misses my millimeters. You stab at it again.
-1 hp.
Again. And again. You dodge. You strike. You slowly chip away at its health.
You’re not sure how long it takes. You can’t focus on anything other than your movement patterns. When it finally falls, the sun is beginning to rise. Weird. You thought it was afternoon.
“Y/N! What in Hylia’s name were you thinking!?” Your limbs feel like lead as Wild shakes you. It takes a few moments for you to connect that he’s even talking to you. Was he… scolding you? Him??? Mr. I-sled-down-cliffs-for-fun?
“That was… insanely reckless,” Time sighs. He’s standing behind Wild, and he somehow looks even more tired than you feel.
“Where did you guys come from?” You try to think back, but your thoughts are about as fast as cold molasses. They had left, hadn’t they? Why were they here? You feel yourself being sat down as Hyrule begins to heal you.
“Most of us went back to town,” Wind explains. “We were gonna fight it with better supplies.”
“I stayed back to watch. I was planning on pulling you out of the fight, but you… seemed to handle yourself alright,” Warriors massages his temples. “I swear, if I gray early I’m holding you and you alone responsible.”
“Why didn’t you wait?” Legend asks. His familiar snark feels strained. Awww, was he worried about you? If you didn’t feel like passing out, maybe you would tease him a bit. Instead, you decide to answer his question.
“Why would I?”
You can hear multiple Links’ blood pressures rise as they take in your words.
Congrats! Every Link has even more anxiety now! Are you happy?
I finally got Four's spotlight fic done. To be honest, he's one of the harder characters for me to write given that I just don't know much about him (game wise) and that handling the Colors can sometimes be rather complex. Still, I did my best to portray our favorite littlest man of the Chain. I hope you all enjoy!
TW: Yandere themes, Neglect, Mental Breakdown (Four), Talk of/ descriptions of blood and gore, Use of brightly colored text, All is Not Okay in Fourville
It was secret to none that Four was picky and rather strict when it came to handling weapons and armor. While the usual victim of his scolding was Wild and his reckless use of his equipment, he wasn’t afraid to chew out anyone else. Plus, he wanted to make sure for himself that the tools and weapons at the group’s disposal were in tip-top shape. Besides, daily maintenance was something he could do blindfolded.
So, when Time came over to poke around at what he had in his bags, Four was instinctually on edge. He knew well that Time wouldn’t abuse the weapons he had stored away, but he knew the purpose for his perusal.
“Do you have anything blunt? Like a mace or hammer? Warhammer, even? Anything that’s a spare will do, honestly…” Time finally questions as he looks the little smithy in the eye. Four lifts the sword he had been sharpening off of the grindstone before him and puts it to the side to show Time that he’s listening and thinking. After tapping on his chin for a bit, Four slowly nods.
“I have a mace and a warhammer. Both need some fixing up, though. So our… newest arrival will have to wait a few days before they can be armed,” Four answers. His eyes flicker over to the other side of the camp where you, along with a few others, were “training”. Wars and Sky were trying to take it more seriously; one was beside you to help adjust your… everything, really, and the other was your sparring partner. The rest that were huddled around were smiling and laughing at just how clunky you were with a sword in hand. It seemed like you were out to prove that people could have two left hands rather than feet.
“Whatever you can get will work. They may not have finesse, but they do have an arm. I suppose they’ll just have to loot weapons from monsters for the moment. Or see if they can get Wild to fess up any bokoblin clubs,” Time tutted while also watching the scene. Four nodded and hummed in agreement before swifty going back to what he had been doing. Time left to go supervise the rest to make sure no one was getting too rowdy and Four was now left by himself. Well, selves.
“I don’t trust them as far as I can throw them! And with how big they are, I couldn’t do it far!”
“I can’t really tell what to make of them. Everything they’ve told us about who and what they are seems genuine…”
“Let’s not put much faith in them at the moment. They’re no Hero of Courage, they barely know how to protect themselves, and their whole presence here is accidental. They’ll undoubtedly either split from the group, find their own way back home, or die.”
“Do we have to be so harsh on them? Even in the face of our judgements, they’ve still been kind and understanding!”
Safe to say that Four was, and would easily remain, uncertain of your presence. Experience told him that the nicest faces and friendliest smiles could still put a knife in your back. A part of him- a very small part, he had to emphasize, wanted to believe that you were truly genuine. Whether or not you were or were just putting on a convincing act, Four was ready to respond how he deemed just.
“Hey! Uh, Four, right? Time said that you may have some weapons for me to use?” You spoke up as you approached the little smithy. He was perplexed as to why Time had sent you over when Four had just told him the weapons wouldn’t be ready at the moment. Given how the oldest member was currently talking with the rest of the group about something he couldn’t make out, Four surmised that it was his turn to watch you.
“Give me a moment to get them. They aren’t in the best shape right now, but you can at least give them a few test swings,” Four finally responded. He got up to go dig through his supply of spare weapons to find the aforementioned mace and warhammer. They weren’t hard to find as their state was an absolute eye sore. The metal heads of the weapons were rusted over and the leather strapping on the mace’s handle was coming undone. There were some noticeable splinters along the wooden body of the warhammer- to the point he may have to ask Sky in helping him create a new one. Their sorry states were enough to embarrass Four. Spare weapons or not, this was unacceptable!
“Oh, uhm… I can come back for them later. I don’t want to break them,” You mutter and give Four a sheepish smile. It only makes the deepening blush of embarrassment on his face worse.
“You can give them a few swings, at least,” Four allows although he knows well it’s not a good idea. It’s clear that you know it too due to your hesitance, but you don’t let it stop you from picking up the warhammer first. Due to its splintering body, its impossible to wield it properly without gloves to protect your hands. As such, you only get a few swings out of it before it slips from your grip and lands on the ground with a thud.
“Okay, uhm… sorry…” You mumble before picking up the mace to try instead. Whereas it may have been a sizeable mace in the hands of a Hylian, it seemed far more normal sized in your hands. Based on your nearly white knuckles as you gripped the mace, you didn’t plan on letting it slip from your grip this time. Four still made sure to give you your room.
As you swung around the mace, it was clear to Four that Time hadn’t lied about your arm. Even if you said you had lived a rather quiet and mundane life beforehand, it was obvious your human genetics were on your side. With enough training, Four could see you trading blows between a Gerudo or a Goron.
With a cry, pop, and then another thunk, the head of the mace was on the ground. The spiked ball of metal had luckily landed far from anything delicate. Before Four could say or do anything, you nearly thrusted the mace’s handle into his hands before taking off. In your eyes, you had just broken two weapons in the span of a minute and most likely thought that Four was angry with you- livid, even. Four was upset, yes, but far more at himself for his neglect than anything else.
Thus, Four began to get both weapons back into tip-top shape over the course of the next few days. Despite their sorry state, it wasn’t like he was having to forge a new weapon. The metal just needed some polish and refining, the wooden rods of the body needed to either be resanded or replaced, and the leather wrapping of the handles needed to be redone. With skilled hands, and some help, the mace and warhammer were nearly as good as new before the week was over with.
When you had been given the weapons, you didn’t act how Four expected you to. Typically, when someone was given a new weapon, it had about the same effect as getting a new tool. That’s really what weapons were- tools.
But you acted like a child finally getting the toy they’ve been wanting for ages. You smiled and laughed as you swung around the fresh steel like it weighed nothing. Your joy was infectious as a few others helped set up makeshift targets for you to smash or even tried their hand at sparring with you now armed with a weapon you could handle. It was a refreshing sight to see- to know he had made someone so happy.
It was that night, Four believed, that everything changed for him.
He didn’t notice it at first. He had begun to have your two weapons fixed up first before anything else. He had excused it as being efficient as you had nothing else in your arsenal besides the two weapons. Plus, they regularly received a heavy beating and Four needed to make sure that they weren’t about to break in the middle of battle.
As you began to handle battle and training better and better, Four began to think more and more about getting you a better mace. It was your preferred choice of weapon as having a free hand in battle was useful. Rather than a replacement, maybe he could get you a different style of mace instead? Maybe see how you’d handle a ball and chain?
It was when Four got a good look at your hands one night did his plans change.
You sought him out to pick up your weapons and then be on your way. Illuminated by candlelight did Four see how quickly your skin had calloused and scarred. They were the hands of a fighter, sure, but they’d quickly grow pained and stiff if they weren’t taken care of. Something Warriors and Hyrule were likely already chiding you for, but Four knew of something that could help out. Something that only he could provide as far as he was concerned. Not like he’d let you be serviced by any other blacksmith or get near that sleazy merchant friend of Legend for equipment.
Thus, Four began to work on a fresh set of armor. It had originally started out as nothing more than brainstorming up a pair of gauntlets, but it’d be wrong not to have the whole set.
While most of the boys preferred leather armor with a layer of chainmail beneath it, Four felt like something more robust was in order. You were big and strong without a doubt, yes. While you easily outclassed any typical Hylian in that regard, you weren’t as nimble on your feet as it took time for you to accelerate into a full sprint or scale a ledge. Leather or chainmail didn’t fit you in the eyes of Four’s mind, but full plate certainly did. Why worry about having to dodge if the enemy couldn’t even get past your armor, after all.
He knew it would be a momentous task to fulfill given that he didn’t have access to a ready forge every day. Still, Four was determined. “If there’s a will, there’s a way” the saying goes. And oh does Four find himself willing when it comes to you.
His hands wouldn’t stop shaking when it was finally time to start the measurements. For days and nights on end did he brainstorm your armor. From its design to how it’d be forged, it all had to be perfect. He was too young and too early on in his craft to already be creating a magnum opus but dammit he would just for you only ever for you.
Measuring the dimensions of your hands was the only easy part of this for Four. Even though hands were a complex shape to work with, that wasn’t exactly the part that had Four jittery. No, Four had to brace himself for touching you anywhere else. The arms were fine as well and the shoulders… sort of were. But… then he got to your neck and he really tried not to stare at the way your throat bobbed up and down as you swallowed or how his eyes followed the tiniest drop of sweat as it ran down your skin and along the line of your collar bone. The skin was mostly untouched and unblemished so what would it look like if it was littered with kisses and love bites and licks and-
Four shakes his head and you give him a raised brow but say nothing. He moves past your neck and his hands are quick as lighting to get your chest done and over with. Then it was time to deal with your abdomen and he couldn’t help but let his hands linger there for a bit. It’d be a crime not to, really- you’ve done well to hone in your build and the effort shows. The lines of the abs are gentle and subtle thanks to the soft plush of fat Wild is keen on you keeping. Four can recall many nights where he used the expanse of your midsection as a pillow. When you were dead asleep and he couldn’t get a wink, kneading the flesh beneath his hands was a welcome sleep aid. There were also night when he wondered how the flesh would twitch as hands ran down them or even jiggle like it did in his fantasies where he-
Four nearly has to slap a hand across his face to shut Vio up. He plays it off the best he can by carding a hand through his hair. He hunches over a little bit to get a better angle of your lower body since you were kind enough to sit down for him. He got the measuring tape ready and began to take in the size of you thighs and he really, really had to not focus on the fact that his hands were all over your thighs. He can’t blame anyone but himself for this torture as he told you he needed you to strip to your undergarments to get an accurate measurement. He’s just doing his job, nothing more! A-And if he happens to squeeze your thigh here and there its not like he means to! And he really, really has to not think about what the sheer strength they contained would do to, say, a hydromelon or a pumpkin or maybe… someone’s head. Or… or how they would clamp down on his head like a vice if he were to-
“Uh, Four? You okay bud?” You call out. Four startles and looks up at you with wide eyes. Your expression has gone from perplexed to concerned and you were even reaching your hand out to the little man to ground him. Four gulps and winces at how dry his throat was but he didn’t feel like going off to get a drink of water not like he needed to when one was right in front of him.
“F-Fine. I’m… I’m fine,” Four lies through his teeth. It was the most obvious lie he feels like he’s ever told, but you don’t press him on it. You let him continue on and he is fine. He’s fine finishing up the measurements on your thighs and he’s fine with finishing up your calves. And he is fine when he get to your feet. He is perfectly fine- the epitome of fine-ness. So what if your feet are too? It’s not like he’s some weirdo, you just have nice feet! But not like that, you- you crazy! They’re strong and have carried you well in life! Did he mention that they’re strong- like, really strong? Strong enough that he’s watched them, even clad in nothing more than leather boots, stomp in the head of a bokoblin. O-Or that one time that you managed to subdue a group of bandits with a few of his sword brothers and forced their leader to kneel by planting the heel of your foot between their shoulders. Goddesses, he has to admit that that was one of the hottest things he’s ever witness- especially with how you berated the pigs like dirt beneath your boot, which they were. He can’t recall a time in his life where he’s been so simultaneously surprised, spooked, and horn-
“And done! Y-You’re free to go and get dressed and I’ll go do what I need to do!” Four announced as he stood straight up like an arrow. The action startles you and raises your brows to your hairline, but Four is gone and out of sight before you can even open your mouth. Rather than thinking about the smith’s strange actions, it’d be easier on the mind to just go about your business as planned.
The days pass by but with a distinct lack of Four. Not that he was missing from the group, but it was clear he had chose to distance himself. It was worrisome at first but when he threatened to cave in Wild’s skull should he try to tear him away from his work again, it was decided that he sooner needed his space more than anything.
Crafting your armor was something that quickly consumed Four’s mind. He had to get it done as soon as possible but he couldn’t let it be a botch job. If it was a botch job, you wouldn’t like it. If it was a botch job, it could sooner harm you more than help. If it was a botch job, then Four might as well be handing the others a golden opportunity to woo you.
Yet his absence also meant that they had more time with you than he did. It ate him up inside to see others always next to you or doing something he could easily do for you. Were it not for Vio and Green’s combined patience, then he’s sure he would have gone ballistic by day three.
Slow and steady wins the race. When the armor would finally be finished, he’d be there for every buckle you fastened and every strap you adjusted. He’d be there for the first steps you took while covered in steel and for every battle from then forward. No matter how many scratches or dings the armor may get in it, it’d be top priority above anything else to get it fixed back up.
His brothers could tire themselves out and make his life a lot easier when it was time for him to shine. He would sit by and let the lot of them buzz around you like fruit flies to honey. If he presented himself as lesser competition, then they’d sooner focus on one-upping each other even more. He could observe their tactics and strategies at a distance while he kept his cards to himself. And when it would be time for him to strike, he’d tear through the competition like it was nothing.
He didn’t mind, let alone care, about how he had to get resources. If he had to buy his metals from merchants and haggle about the price for an hour, so be it. If he had to venture out into the wilderness to source his own ore or hide, he’d do it. Even if he had to steal or pull what he needed from the bodies of his slain enemies, he didn’t care. If it all resulted in him getting your armor finished and receiving your love and praise sooner, he’d do it all.
Despite now constantly working himself to the bone, he still needed breaks- and to treat himself whenever he made good progress for the day. Nowadays, you were rarely allowed to do night shifts in guarding the camp. Four would watch you like a hawk as you slowly sunk deeper and deeper into sleep. When he was sure you were fast asleep and whoever was on shift wasn’t looking, he’d shrink himself down, down, down until he was the same size of a Minish. He’d scurry over to you and carefully scale your sleeping body until he was sat on your chest. He’d put his ear to your sternum and listen to the steady and solid beat of your heart. And, if he was feeling a bit cheeky or had to hide or maybe just cold, he didn’t mind crawling beneath your shirt for the night.
The days led to weeks and then the weeks to nearly two months. Two months, Four had toiled away on this armor as if his life depended on it. It may not have, but his future and happily ever after did. Were it not for the endeavors of you and his brothers, he’d have worked himself to the pits of neglect and more. Still, it wasn’t a far off statement to say that he’d seen better days.
But that didn’t matter right now! Finally, finally, his work was finished. Every buckle and strap of the armor was secure and every plate was as polished as a mirror. It was practical and protective but it didn’t lack in any ornate fashion either. Truthfully, the set sooner looked like it had been forged by a royal blacksmith. Now, he just had to present it to you!
“Hmm? Ah, Four! There… you are? Four, bud, what’s in your hands- are you okay?” You questioned as the smithy stumbled walked over. His usually straight golden bob of hair was messy and tangled with soot. His face bore a shaky and unsteady smile like he was ready to either crash right then and there which he was or go mental that too. Your obvious concern over him was something Four may have relished earlier, but it wasn’t important in light of his accomplishment.
“Look! I… I got yyyyyyyyooooourrr armor finishhhed,” Four slurred. His tongue felt like cotton in his mouth and his arms were as steady as gelatin as he presented you the cuirass of your armor. You snatch the armor away from him and Four’s elation only lasts a moment when he sees just how upset you were. You… you didn’t like it?
“Four, buddy, look at you! By the goddesses- I knew you were overexerting yourself for the past few days but I didn’t think it was like this! Y-You’re filthy! Gods, when was the last time you ate something more than fruit or nuts?!” You fretted as you began to check over Four. Your worries were but static in his ears as Four focused on the now discarded cuirass. It laid on the ground like trash. Was that what you thought of his work? Trash? Was that what you thought of him?
“You… don’t… like… it?” Four whispers out as his eyes remain laser focused on the armor piece. The ever twisting and bright colors of his eyes were dull and stagnant. You groan- growl, even- and pinch the bridge of your nose.
“The armor is cool and all Four, but I could care less about it right now. Look at you- look at the state you’re in! I need to get you to help fast,” You whine. Your tone was dismissive and your words were so choppy when referring to the armor. Golden Three, you… you really didn’t like the armor. You must hate it! You must hate him!
“Why… what… am I doing wrong?” Four sobs out as he falls to his knees. He crumbles like a wet paper towel and is little more than a sobbing, snotty mess on the ground in seconds. “What am I doing wrong?!”
“Whoa-kay there, Four. L-Let’s calm down, okay? You’re not feeling well right now and it’s making you feel sick and bad about yourself,” You hush and reach out to soothe him. He grabs your hands with a bone-crushing grip you think not even Twilight was capable of as Four looked up at you. It was a look you’ve never seen before- and a look you’d never want to see again. It was pained, crazed, violent, and insane. His eyes threatened to bulge from his head as his lips formed a dangerous smile- like a snarling animal.
“Tell me- TELL ME! WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?!” Four demands. It’s scary to see him so out of control. You expected to see his eyes alight with blue but every color in them was perfectly proportioned. This cry for an answer was from all of him.
“Four, that’s enough! You’re starting to scare me,” You admit as you try to break free from him without hurting him.
“Scared? You, scared? You’re not the one scared, I am! I put blood, sweat, and tears into your armor and you throw it to the ground! Two months of painstaking work- work that bled into every ounce of my time is just… chucked aside!” Four yells and doesn’t let up.
“Four, please-”
“Is it not the style you wanted? Did you want it embellished with gold? Embedded with jewels?! Tell me, dammit, tell me!”
“Will you shut up about the armor?!” You finally scream back. Being gentle wasn’t working, so the only choice in the panic of the moment was to yell right back at him. “It’s not the armor I’m angry about, Four. It’s you.”
“Me…? I’m… I’m the problem?” Four mutters out as he seems to loose all the color in his skin. You grimace and realize the very poor choice of words that had just left your mouth.”
“Shit- Four, I don’t mean it like that. I’m angry with you, yes, but it’s not about you! It’s about your actions and-”
“I’m… the problem. I’m the problem. You hate… me. You hate me. You hate me!”
“No, Four, I don’t-”
“What do I need to change?!” Four howls as he throws himself at you. He latches on like some sort of stubborn parasite. He’s practically yelling in your ear as he hounds you for answers. “Well?! TELL ME! Do you not want to be seen with a blacksmith?! I-I can change careers! It’s not too late to learn something like carpentry or-or tailoring. Hell, I can learn those skills from Sky and Legend! Please, tell me what you want me to be! I’ll do it- I’ll do it all! I can prove that I’m better! I am better! Whatever it takes for you to love me and be with me, I will do it!”
“Four, are you even listening to yourself?!”
“I hear myself loud and clear, (Name)! Loud and clear! Maybe it’s all this time we’ve spent apart- yes, that’s it! I’ve barely been around you for two months while my brothers practically did everything they could to be by your side! You haven’t had time to know me, but I can fix that! I can make up for all of that lost time in so many ways! I can take you to where I grew up, I can take you to meet my grandfather- I can even have you properly meet the Minish! That sounds like a good first date, right?!”
“Fucking hell, what the fuck? I can’t do this-”
“Not into classical romance? That’s fine- perfectly okay, in fact! I’m nothing but charged nerves right now, so why don’t we go off and just kill some things?! Monsters or bandits, it doesn’t matter! Watching them fall to our blades, cowering at the sight of our blood soaked figures- it’ll be great! Plus you look absolutely amazing when you’re caving someone’s skull in, have I ever told you that? Your focus, your intensity, and your strength? Goddesses, even I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be turned into muck and mush by you!”
“TIME! TWILIGHT! WARS! FUCKING ANYBODY!-”
“NO! NO! You DO NOT call out to them! You just need me- you’ll only ever need me! I can do so many things that they can’t- I’ll prove it! I’ll spend every waking moment of the rest of my life to prove it, (Name)! I cannot be without you and I’ll prove that you cannot be without me! I love you, (Name). Heart, body, and soul- I love you. Just say it back, (Name). Say that you love me- say it! Tell me that you cannot live without me! Show to me that under all of your walls and layers that you are just as depraved as me and everyone else! Say it! SAY IT!”
THUNK!
Four’s body sags down before flopping over onto his side. In his fleeting vision, he can see your eyes ablaze with nothing short of raw terror. Tears he hadn’t noticed before streamed down your cheeks as your body shook like a leaf in the wind. Four barely caught the sight of large arms reaching for you before he finally blacked out.
~~~
When Four came to, he half expected to either be a specter floating above his corpse or waking up in his bed to find that everything had just been a dream. What he didn’t expect, though, was to find himself being slowly cascaded in water. In fact, most of his body was submerged in bubbly water that was pleasantly warm. Fatigue still hung heavy in Four’s bones and the relaxing water to the pleasant smell of sage and lavender in the air made it tempting to fall back asleep.
“Don’t you even think about falling asleep on me, mister. Not after what you did,” a voice croaks out from beside him. It takes Four a moment to register that it’s you and gosh do you look like you’ve been through Hell. No offense, but it was one of the worser states the young man had seen you in.
Four’s head aches and throbs as the mother of all headaches grapples him. He whines- it’s all he feels he has the strength to do. You don’t bother to massage his temples as you’re still busy washing his body. He’d derive pleasure from the action were it not for the terrible headache and the looming sense of unease in the room.
It was clear to Four that he had done something. He vaguely remembered confronting you about… something. The most vivid part of the memory was the agony and fear etched into your face before the blurry memory ended. Regardless of what happened, he knew he was going to get chewed a new one by every one of his brothers when they got the chance.
“I’m.. not mad about the armor. It’s a beautiful set, really,” you mutter and Four’s gaze flickers over to you in surprise. The armor? What about the armor? Oh, that’s right! He finished it! He must have given it to you then but it sounds like something went wrong.
“Then… what are… you mad at?” Four whispered out. Gods, his throat hurt like hell too! Did you and him get into some sort of argument? Maybe? He couldn’t recall but it felt more complex than that. Anger wasn’t the only emotion that seemed to be brewing within you. Disappointment? Concern, as well? Maybe even sadness?
“I’m mad at how you’ve been treating yourself, Link. You had basically become slave to your craft while you forged that armor! It was scary, Link- really scary. I’ve… I’ver never seen you go ballistic like that- I didn’t know you were even capable of it! Once I know you’re cleaned up and rested up, I’m having Hyrule and Wars check you out. And don’t think I’m gonna let you be unsupervised any time soon! Even if I have to be the one with you 24/7, I’ll do it!” You hiss. Your eyes light up with more than just anger or disappointment- dedication and a sense of duty are evident within you. It’s a beautiful look, if Four could be so bold. Not only that, but you’re referring to him by name! Progress!
“Oh… okay. I’m… sorry… for what I… did…” Four apologizes.
“No, it’s… don’t worry about it, okay? Your lack of sleep and food had clearly pushed you off the deep end. You just ended up snapping and I know that the neglect you’ve been through just made it worse. Not to mention what it must have been like with the addition of the Colors,” You sigh. Despite your dismissal, things were not okay. Four had said and done things that had upset you and certainly hurt you in come capacity. He wanted to apologize again but you had dropped the topic and clearly wished to no longer discuss it.
The bath continued on in silence as Four soaked in the moment. Even with the pain and exhaustion hounding his body from overworking himself, it felt worth it in the moment. You were so attentive and tender as you helped him. Even after he was out of the tub, you assisted in drying him off and basically swaddling him like a babe in towels. You even pulled out fancy creams or pastes Four hadn’t seen before. Beauty products, he had to guess, that were most likely given to you by Wars. Four let himself be pampered as its what he deserved. This moment, along with likely future pampering, was his reward for what he went through. Although he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Four was curious as to how far he could stretch this pampering and affection. Hyrule and Wars would undoubtedly tell him to rest for some time which could then easily be turned into time with you.
“Hmm… (Name)?” Four piped up as you searched through Four’s belongings to find him any clean clothes to wear.
“Yeah?” You respond and look up at the man. No matter how quietly he said anything or did anything, you’d perk up at full attention towards him. It made him feel special- to so easily have your attention.
“Can… I sleep with you for awhile? Until I’m better?” Four asks as he tries to make his tone as innocent as possible. Excitement was gnawing at his bones and trying to push through his exhaustion. He couldn’t let it show- not yet. He’s finally secured his way into your arms and he can’t blow it.
“Uhm… sure, I don’t see why not. If it’ll help you sleep easier,” You agree and Four is only a little miffed by the statement. It sooner sounds like you’re fulfilling his request just to make him feel better- not to spend more time with him. Oh well- at the very least, it’s a starting point. All relationships start somewhere, right? Even if there was a… bump in the road earlier (of which he still finds himself still incapable of fully remembering- Twilight had to have hit him hard).
He’s finally- finally by your side.
He’ll do every task you give him to a T- you deserve nothing less.
He’ll rip out the hearts of your enemies and put them on a silver platter for you.
He’ll show you what it means to be loved by him- every inch of his being, physical or intangible, belongs to you.
He’ll do anything it takes to be by your side for the rest of his life and after. Even if it’s something as simple as putting a ring on your finger or finding out if it’s possible to go from being Four to Five. Don’t think he’s above anything anymore. Everything he does now, big or small, is going to be for you.
And the only thing he’ll never do, no matter how kindly you ask or how desperately plead, is leave.
This fic was an absolute pain to end. I think I wrote the ending of it in, like, five different ways before actually ending it. Not to mention how this plot was completely different when I first started out. The fic's original name was "Can I have your name?" but try as I might, I could not get the plot I had for that to flow. So, I hope you all enjoy a funky little fairy boy.
TW: Yandere themes, manipulation, Hyrule purposefully letting himself get hurt, possessive themes, delusional thoughts, a few suggestive moments (nothing explicit), Hyrule's an absolute stinker
The light that filtered through the trees dappled the forest scene below in blotches of gold. A spring breeze blows sweetly through the woods and Hyrule feels the wind ruffle up his fluffy hair. He doesn’t bother to fix it because that meant he had to move. And he would sooner die than do that right now.
A hand comes back down to his head and nestles itself into his brown locks. An item, soft and fresh, is placed in his hair before the hand retreats. The hand isn’t gone for long as it returns to his hair again in a few moments to put another item in his hair. Hyrule hums and turns his head to the side to expose more untouched patches of hair. In doing so, he gets to bury his face further into the crease where your thighs and abdomen met. The action elicits a giggle from you and Hyrule believes he’s finally ascended to heaven.
“When I’m done with you, you’re sooner going to be a flower boy than a fairy boy,” Hyrule hears you giggle from above. He snorts in response and cuddles in closer. He takes in a deep breath and relishes odor that greets him. It was overly musky but it was you and that meant it was the smell of home.
“Mmm… I don’t mind,” the brunette sighs out and finally cracks open his eyes to stare at you. And you’re nothing short of beautiful. Golden light framing your hair still messed up from your recently shed helmet. Eyes and lips crinkled into a serene expression. Every part of you just screamed divinity.
Although divine was the word that best suited you, Hyrule also found you to be sweet. Sweet like honey fresh and dripping from the comb. Sweet like the snacks he liked to munch on whenever no one was looking (you almost always caught him, though, and claimed he’d rot out his teeth one day). Sweet like the warm and thick emotion that would pump through his veins and flood his heart when he was held in your arms. Your love poured and flowed through him like hot syrup and it made him giddy and high like nothing else could.
Your hands snaked under Hyrule’s arms and forced him up. He whined and wobbled his lip at you but you refused to give in. The two of you walked over to the still waters of the pond beside where the great fairy resided and you had him look down at his reflection. His hair was filled with all sorts of flowers and even a few sprigs of berries. He blushed at the sight but the wide smile on your face made it clear how happy his new hair accessories made you. To see such joy fill your face made Hyrule a weak, weak man.
But he’s your weak man.
And the ring that hangs from the chain on your neck should make that obvious.
Hyrule wish he wasn’t such a clutz in presenting it to you, though. He had practiced his lines dozens of times, learned your schedule when camp was set up to find the moment in time you were least occupied, and even learned a few poetic flares from Wars. And what did he do when the moment came?
He shoved the ring into your hands while stumbling over his words like a toddler still learning to talk- in front of everyone. Even worse? The ring didn’t even properly fit.
Through some manner of luck, though, you kept the ring. Hung it from your neck and barely removed it from your person. You didn’t act like his fiance, much to his displeasure, but he couldn’t stay mad at you. You just had so much love to give and he knew his brothers deserved it after how cruel fate and the gods have been to them all. Don’t think he’ll be as lenient when he’s with you back in your world, though. Like any lover, he doesn’t appreciate a homewrecker.
“C’mon, you two- we need to get a move on,” Time called out and Hyrule was sorely reminded that the two of you weren’t exactly alone. He grumbles some less than pretty words under his breath and finds his heart breaking as you heed the older man’s words and move away. Hyrule tries to stare down Time where he stands but the blonde brushes him off as if he wasn’t there. To add insult to injury, Time loops his arm with yours and leads you to the front of the group he shouldn’t be allowed to do that he’s not your fiance stop it stop it stop it!
Sensing the sour mood surrounding him, neither Wild or Legend talk to the brunette as the group travels onward. You’re stationed at the front of the group with Time walking ahead of you and with Warriors and Twilight at your sides. As much as Hyrule loved everything about you, he wished you didn’t end up favoring the heavy armor you wore or the mace you wielded especially given it’s hidden meaning and much less hidden claim on you by another man. If you were sooner like Wild and preferred a bow or used magic like he did, you wouldn’t be placed at the front of the group every single time.
He hated these moments. Any moment he was away from your side, any moment your attention wasn’t on him, and especially any moment you weren’t within eyesight. He knew he shouldn’t feel like this but he can’t help it and he doesn’t want to. With the shit he’s been through, he thought he’d never find happiness. Then… he stumbled through a portal and met his brothers. It almost brought tears to his eyes when he realized he wasn’t alone in his pain and that these men understood him and didn’t try to kill him on sight. And then you, Hylia’s apology for what she’s done, came into his life.
You were what convinced Hyrule that happiness was not only possible for him, but also something he deserved. Unlike others who would boast about Hyrule’s achievements until they turned blue and he turned red, you whispered them. You talked to him so sweetly about all he’s done like it’s a humble fairy tale and not a ballad to be sung. Hyrule appreciated that- he appreciates you. You, more than anyone, understand he’s naturally shy and reserved and approach him as such. You don’t force him to boast or seek out glory because you’re happy with just him. And he’s over the moon with you.
You were just the best fiance Hyrule could ever ask for. The sun to his moon, the sword to his shield, and the peanut butter to his grape jelly. You both completed each other and evened each other out into a pitch perfect harmony. While he preferred to be light on his feet and leaned towards his magic, you were all brawn and blunt with your mace in hand and cloaked in steel. Whenever he’d shy away from interacting with strangers or just talking in general, you were quick to speak for him and allow him his space. When he was about to get lost or wander off without realizing it, you were quick to be by his side and steer him back to the correct course.
It’s because of this balance you brought that made Hyrule so… clingy.
Without you, that balance was off. And when the balance is off, Hyrule feels upset and sick. So, no you equals no happiness. And Hyrule could do… drastic things when he was unhappy.
One time, he had purposefully allowed himself to wander too close to a cliff during a fight. He tumbled down the rocky slope along with the chuchu that had attacked him. He received dozens of cuts, bruises, and even acid burns along with a broken ankle and wrist. Because of this horrendous “accident”, it forced the group to stay in a town for a week while he was regularly healed to speed up the recovery process. The scoldings from the others went in one ear and out the other because you were there. You were the one who dressed his wounds, who helped him eat, and even helped to bathe him. You were the one who roomed with him and always ended up in the same bed with him because he was hurting so bad! Please just cuddle with him and rub away his aches and kiss away his pain. Please? Ignore how he’s pressed up against you so closely that the only way he could get closer would be to crawl down your throat.
Another time, he let his jealousy get the better of him. When the group had stopped to set up camp, Hyrule helped get things unpacked. Strangely enough, though, a few things got mixed up and suddenly fingers were pointing at each other as to who did what. You naturally butted in to try and settle the argument and Hyrule patiently waited to the side while you did. When you eventually got fed up with trying to quell the shouting men, you slinked away to take a breather. Hyrule was at your side before you could even sit down. He busied himself in helping you shed your armor and whispered gentle praise to you while he helped massage out the knots in your neck and shoulders. Ignore them for a while, hm? Just stay with him by the creek and let them sort out their business. But… since you’re both already here, why not take a dip? The water’s rather refreshing and it never hurts to clean up. Plus, wouldn’t it be so romantic to wade out into the deeper waters underneath the moonlight with the both of you bare as the day you were born? The two of you were engaged and Hyrule believed that the two of you deserved some needed alone time.
There were countless times Hyrule had gotten up to shenanigans to get your attention back onto him. He had fairy blood in him so such trickery came naturally to him. Not that you needed to know about all of his little games, though. He could only imagine the cold shoulder you would give him and that in and of itself would be his end.
Thankfully enough, it didn’t take the whole day to reach the next town. As everyone settled into the inn, everyone began to go about their usual routine. Warriors and Twilight went off to talk to the nearest stable to get Epona settled in while Legend and Sky went off to purchase needed amenities. Wild weaseled himself into the kitchen to prepare dinner after Time intimidated persuaded the innkeeper into letting them use it. Wind had wandered off to somewhere but Hyrule wasn’t too concerned on keeping track of the boy.
Unusually, though, Time was the one taking stock off the current supplies and not Four. The reason? That damned armor of yours. Protective and sturdy as it was, it wasn’t unbreakable. During the walk to the town, Four had noticed that the right pauldron creaked against the metal plates of your armor in a way they shouldn’t. Thus, he had requested to examine the armor when they arrived in town. Hyrule doesn’t understand how taking off the whole cuirass was necessary for a little touch up, though.
Hyrule was thankful for meeting all of his brothers and getting close to them, but he learned that family can get… complicated. Complicated was easily a good way to explain how Hyrule felt towards the little blacksmith. He was a great guy, good in his craft, and often a welcome voice of reason when things got out of hand. He was the one who kept the armory of the group in tip top shape. He had to thank Four for many things but there was also a point of conflict between the two of them. You.
Hyrule’s not blind. He’s only lived for as long as he has due to his trained eyes and ears. He knows that when that armor was finally finished and gifted to you, it was far more than just armor. Much like the ring that Hyrule had gifted you, it was a symbol of claim. Just thinking about the heart eyes Four would give you whenever you were donning the armor made Hyrule sick. It was also a blow to his self-esteem as, compared to the ring, it was far more practical. It kept you safe and saved your life constantly whereas the ring Hyrule gifted you wasn’t even magical. It was a band of polished silver versus an entire set of steel plate armor, for crying out loud! Talk about an unfair match up.
When Hyrule looked back to you and Four he wanted to rip his hair out. You had been sat down on a chair while Four was on your lap. Based on how the smithy was touching your shoulder and messing with a strip of measuring tape, it seemed like he was just doing his “job” and readjusting your armor. Hyrule knew better, though. Four didn’t need to be on your lap to do this. He didn’t need to be so handsy with your bare skin. Hell, Four didn’t even need to retake your measurements as it seems he does so nearly every other week! Hyrule knows you’re gaining muscle, but not that fast!
The brunette grinds his teeth together and tries not to let his simmering anger show on his face as Four just plops himself down on your lap and gets comfortable. It’s clear that he’s done doing whatever he has to do so he should be getting off and leaving you alone but nooooooo! He’s sitting on your lap, soaking up your attention, even leaning his head against your chest, and his hands are still touching you. Were Hyrule a larger and stronger man Like Twilight, he would’ve just picked up the midget and punted him out the door.
What can Hyrule do? How can he put your attention back on him? Does he cause a scene? Does he have an accident in the kitchen and maybe cut or burn himself? Does he switch out a few belongings in the others bags so they’ll argue with each other when they get back? What can he do?!
“(Name), I’ve been meaning to ask- are you alright?” Time pipes up and Hyrule shifts his darkened eyes over to him. C’mon… don’t add him to the mix! The Old Man is even worse to deal with!
“I’m quite fine. Uhm, why do you ask?” You respond with a puzzled expression.
“You seemed to have gotten a bit heated with those two travelers earlier, that’s all. What was that even about?” Time questions. Ah, that. Hyrule wasn’t there the entire time you had the argument, but he saw you nearly storm away from the two novice adventurers. If he remembered correctly, you had just tried to be helpful and give them advice but it’s clear they took it the wrong way.
“Don’t worry about it- just two beginners unwilling to take some advice. I think we’ve all gone through that bullheaded phase before,” You replied in a dismissive manner. It didn’t bother you, which is good, but you had been bothered and that was not good. Hyrule wouldn’t mind going off to find these two adventurers to give them a piece of his mind, but he had a better idea when he saw Four’s eyes fill with blue and violet.
“Let’s just hope we don’t run into them again, yeah? Even once you left, those two jerks just couldn’t seem to keep their mouths shut! The things I heard them say were entirely uncalled for. From your attitude to your figure to even your armor!” Hyrule growled and crossed his arms as he spun a little lie. He watched Four out of his peripherals and saw the little smithy shaking in place. The color of his eyes were twisting and turning like a nest of agitated snakes. All he had to do now was separate you from Four and Hyrule could whisk you away.
“Hyrule, drop it,” You tutted and the brunette threw his hands up in mock surrender. He let a grin slip when you moved Four off of your lap and got up. You walked off and up the stairs but Hyrule lagged behind. He continued to watch Four and how the Colors within him were clearly arguing. His eyes shifted from wobbly red and verdant green to brash and violent blue. After a few seconds, calm and calculating violet cascaded over his irises before the smithy exited from the inn.
Hyrule couldn’t hold in the pep in his step or stop himself from humming under his breath as he caught up to you. He followed you into your room and closed the door behind the two of you. He leaned against the door and watched as you began to settle in for the night. How your skilled and nimble fingers messed with the clasps of the rest of your armor and removed it. How you began to shed the layer of padding you wore beneath the steel. How your skin shone with a thin sheet of sweat and how the muscles hiding under neath a layer of fat flexed and moved with every little thing you did. Hyrule tried not to pout when you got dressed back up in your nighttime linens.
As you slipped into bed, Hyrule dived between you and the blankets. He ignored your grunts or your complaints as he nuzzled up to your body. He intertwined his legs with yours, nestled his head beneath your chin, and wrapped and arm around your waist and let his hand rest on your thigh. His other hand busied itself with the chain around your neck and toyed with the engagement ring.
“Clingy,” Hyrule heard you huff as you pulled at the apple of his cheek. He only smiled in response and rubbed his face against your shoulder. The soft skin was blemishless and beckoned Hyrule to act. It was like a blank canvas and Hyrule knew of a great design he could paint onto it.
“Mmmmmmmmmm…”
“What?”
“Hmmmmmmmmm…”
“Hyrule, what?”
“Mmmmmmmgonnabiteyou-”
“Wh- OW! HYRULE!”
Hyrule kept his teeth clamped down on your shoulder as tightly as he could even as you tried to pry him away. After a short scuffle, the brunette let go and was nearly pushed off of the bed by you. He merely grinned as you glared down at him and rubbed your shoulder. The skin in and around the bite mark was quickly turning red and it’d hopefully bruise. He didn’t exactly prefer leaving such a crude mark on you as you already wore the ring, but he felt like an extra reminder was needed every once in awhile.
“The hell was that for, you little shit?” You grumble as you continue to massage your shoulder. Although your voice was pointed and sharp, Hyrule didn’t shrink away.
“Hmmm… jus’ felt like it~,” Hyrule giggles and smiles up at you. You roll your eyes and shake your head rather disapprovingly. You scowl at the bite mark and continue to rub it in hopes of soothing the minor ache.
“This better not bruise or else the others are going to get ideas,” You sigh and Hyrule drops his grin. What do you mean by “get ideas”? If they think that the two of you are together then that’s the exact idea that he wants them to have! You are together! You accepted the ring! Don’t tell him he has to force it on your finger…
A knock on the door breaks the moment and Hyrule wants to scream. You adjust your tunic to cover up your shoulder before answering it. An upset Twilight is who greets you and quickly beckons you out of the room. Hyrule barely hears him mention something about Four and he gets some gratification in knowing that his plan worked.
The Colors would undoubtedly be a mess. Blue would likely sooner be mistaken as Red and no doubt Vio would also be drenched as well. Green would at least try to explain their actions while that crybaby Red would be clinging to you and sobbing. As you would whenever someone turned up messy, you’d dismiss them to get cleaned up. And then, you’d storm back to your room and try to calm down.
Hyrule busied himself in getting the room set up while you were away. He pushed the two beds in the room together and fluffed up the pillows and blankets. He changed into his nighttime clothes which was nothing more than a comfortable pair of trousers. Once everything was set up and ready, he waited on hand and knee for you to return. He reeled back his playful attitude and hoped you wouldn’t be too snippy when you came back.
The minutes passed by before the door clicked and creaked open. You slumped over to the pushed together beds and slip under the blankets. Once you were curled up in bed, Hyrule scooched over to you and pulled you towards him. He kept his movements and affections calm, gentle, and slow so you could easily pull away in the case that you were getting overwhelmed. Dealing with your stress was a fickle thing but Hyrule knew how to help you calm down he couldn’t call himself your fiance if he didn’t know how to do even that.
“Four do something stupid?” Hyrule whispers out as he holds you. He places his hands on your shoulder and rubs them. His palms slide down your shoulder blades and back as he massages the tension out of you.
“Mhm…” You sighed out. You didn’t seem to relax as quickly as Hyrule wanted you to. He pulled you flush against him and he coiled his arms around you. He placed a few kisses on the nape of your neck but that gained no reaction from you. Hyrule found himself getting antsy at your lack of response towards his affections. You weren’t reciprocating them or pushing him away. You were just laying there and saying nothing. If there was one thing Hyrule never liked, it was your silence.
“(Name)...” Hyrule whined out in the most pathetic tone he could. Finally, you rolled over and looked at him. He had quickly mustered up crocodile tears and a pouty lip. You mumbled out something Hyrule didn’t quite catch as you pinched the bridge of your nose. When you dropped your hand and opened your eyes again, the turmoil rolling around in your eyes seemed to be quieting down.
“I swear- you are just so needy,” You snort as you ruffle Hyrule’s hair. Hyrule grabs the hand before it can retreat and he brings it to his lips. He places a cheeky kiss against the palm of it which gains him a chuckle from you.
“I am. I am very needy and I’m not afraid to admit it,” Hyrule hums and continues to kiss your hand. You keep trying to pull away but Hyrule keeps chasing it and pressing more and more obnoxious kisses to it.
“Enough!” You giggle out and push away Hyrule.
“I can never have enough of you,” Hyrule claims and places his hand over his heart.
“You sure about that? Even if you had to spend the rest of your life around me?” You challenge and raise a brow. Hyrule returns the smirk you have on your face and loops the chain hanging from your neck around his finger. He rests that beautiful silver ring against his knuckles and brings it up to his lips for a featherlight kiss. His big doe eyes fill with adoration and he speaks his next words with absolute certainty.
“You speak like I could ever get tired of you or that you could ever get rid of me.”
I'll admit that it was my own procrastination this time around that stopped me from posting this sooner. But it's done now and at the time of posting this I have less than twenty minutes until I leave for work so I am rushing. This piece is not as thoroughly proofread as my others so far and I wanted to try something different (meaning that I didn't want to write a torture scene). Instead, y'all get to enjoy Legend being an absolute little creepy bastard man.
TW: Lots of suggestive stuff but nothing explicitly stated, yandere themes, brief mentions of blood, I want to put a restraining order on Legend after writing this
“If I may bring your attention over here, dear customer, I think you’ll find that these wares are more to your liking. Take this copper and quartz bracelet, for example! Though it may not glimmer like gems and gold or match well with any gowns or suits, it serves its purpose in a more practical way than fashionable. Here- touch it! Yes… yes, you feel that? It’s a spell of protection! And a potent one at that! You see, copper and quartz are great choices for enchantments as they…”
Though he may consider Ravio a good friend, Legend can only listen to him prattle on for so long. And when you were the one listening to the purple rabbit with such rapt attention? No matter how mundane the object or how simple the spell might be? Gods, Legend would have to shove a sock down his throat to get him to shut up.
But… Legend can’t exactly blame the merchant for his gabbiness. He can’t blame anyone for acting giddy around you. He and his brothers would know.
Any and everything you did just… did something nothing else could. Legend could take all sorts of pain medication or even healing potions, but it’d do nothing to soothe out the deep aches in his muscles and bones. But when you would offer to massage his shoulders when he had flare ups? Calm and pleasure would seep into his joints and bones like he had taken a day’s long soak in a hot spring.
Your genuine reactions were another thing that Legend found so precious. Despite having traveled with him and the rest for months, you still oohed and ahhed at anything with a hint of magic in it. Even when feeling an appropriate level of fear towards monsters, he could always see some hint of awe in your eyes. Not to mention the pure wonder he witnessed when you were greeted by the sights of dragons and fairies and all inbetween.
It was like Legend was rediscovering the world through a brand new pair of lenses. All of the geological monuments or sights that he used to dismiss did have some level of majesty to them. The speckled night sky and the blazing sunsets and sunrises were rather breath taking, he would admit. “Not as breathtaking as you” is what he’d want to say but Wars always beat him to the punch. And then Legend would, typically, physically punch him later.
And he loved you for all of it.
He loved how genuine and real (because you are- you are real and this is no dream) everything felt. It was like the unseen muck clinging to his soul was cleansed from him when he was around you. His drive, his heartbeat, and his every breath was fueled by you. He adored that you made him see the silver linings in things when his pessimism gnawed at his mind. He had to stop himself from physically crooning into your arms when you’d hold him so tenderly after he awoke from a nightmare. Even when it was habit to snap or quip when in a moment of vulnerability, you still held the shards of glass that he was in your hands without fear of being cut. And if he ever hurt you, no matter how or to what capacity, he’d want you- need you- to inflict it make onto him tenfold or else he’d just have to do it himself and he long gave up on being gentle in such regards.
The long and short of it is that you made Legend feel alive. His heart- his chewed up, spat out, stomped on, cursed at, beaten up, and bruised heart- was yours. His soul- his battered, broken, and down trodden soul- was yours. He is yours. He is only yours. Curse Hylia and all the other goddesses who ever used him as a means to an end. He cares not that the Hero’s Spirit thrums within his veins. He cares not to defile it with sweet sin and indulge in what he pleases. You- you are what he wishes to please and he cares not for what way it is to be done. If you wish for him to continue on being a courageous hero, then so be it. If you want to see him cave into desire and darkness, it will be done. Your word is scripture and he, a preacher.
But…
You won’t leave him without… perhaps a gift or two to reward his devotion?
Unlike some others, he would like to be upfront to you about every feeling of his and what he’s done but he knows he can’t. It’s intense- to the point that that word can feel like an understatement. That intensity would scare, no, terrify you- so Legend keeps his mouth shut. So, because you technically don’t know of his deeds or to the extent of which they go, it’d be wrong for Legend to ask for rewards so out of the blue. No worries, though… he knows how to take them.
He’d never steal from you- no! Gods, no! He just… takes things that are of no use to you anymore. Trash, if he had to label what some of these items were to you. One man’s junk is another man’s treasure, as they’d say. These gifts were too precious for Legend to just leave behind at his house, so he kept them close in a secret satchel of his bag. When this adventure was all over, his first objective would be to redecorate part of his home so he could display this new collection with pride. Not that he’d really need it when the real thing would be in the next room regardless if it was by choice.
At the current moment, his collection wasn’t very big but it was filled with treasures he considered priceless.
A solid choice for comfort was a lightly stained handkerchief. While it had not been in your possession for long, you did use it quite a bit. You had played an undercover role while in a town for a few days, posing yourself as a bright, bubbly, and slightly air-headed noble. Many fake tears, both happy and sad, had been wiped away on this square of cloth. The handkerchief was saturated in your essence by the end of the mission and the normal course of action would be to throw it away. Legend was not about to let that happen, though- not when the item held so much of you. He can still taste the subtlest sweet and salty tang on his tongue whenever the fabric is brought to his lips.
For a more bitter than sweet item to bring him back to his senses whenever he was off his game was a large patch of gauze. The blood that stained it had long since turned brown and slightly rancid, but Legend was not about to throw it away. It was a reminder that you, although more divine than the goddesses themselves, still bled and could still perish (even entertaining such an idea for a split second was enough to ruin Legend’s day and kick up a nightmare come bedtime). It was from your first major wound you obtained when traveling with the group and you got it whilst defending a downed Wind from a few black blooded moblins. Legend was proud of your efforts that day yet ashamed of himself for letting you be in such a situation without back up. You were- under certain conditions, of course- allowed to partake in battle with him and his brothers. You preferred to swing and hack at your enemies instead of using technique, but that in and of itself had its own charm. Legend disliked you being dirtied by anything, but seeing your visage dripping with the blood of your enemies- watching the thick liquid curve down the contours of your armor, hearing you huff and puff and snarl from beneath your helmet, seeing your slowly growing muscle mass twitch and tighten to adjust your stance or grip- did something fierce to the man. He’d find an excuse to be alone for a moment to… “relieve” himself and sing out your praises under hushed and hot breaths.
His second favorite treasure of his private collection was one of the few things you actually did gift him. It was a strange item in the fact that Legend had never seen anything like it and likely never would unless the group was to end up in your world. It’s a very ridiculous item that’s called a- and he had to ask you to repeat this multiple times because he couldn’t believe it- worm on a string. Or, as you had also endearingly named the painfully bright pink, googly eyed strip of fuzz- Fred. It took Legend some time to get used to Fred, but he eventually began to look upon the worm with some joy after awhile (out of amusement of the absurdity that was Fred, The Worm on a String). He had honed his sleight of hand over the years so manipulating the thin, practically nonexistent string that was attached to Fred was a piece of cake once he got the hang of it. Causing the fuzzy worm to wiggle around his fingers, jump from hand to hand, or even jokingly make it dance to music was a quick way to make either himself or someone else laugh. Despite the toy’s sheer level of strangeness, Legend partly saw himself reflected in it. How it did whatever the puppeteer wanted it to do but made it appear as if it acted upon free will was something Legend related to more than he’d like.
His all time favorite treasure of this collection was something he felt like he could never reveal to you. Not necessarily because of what they were, but because of what Legend has done in relation to the items. The items in question being your clothes. Not any old tunic or pair of trousers- no, your original clothes. The very same clothes you had been wearing the moment you met him and the rest and changed their lives for forever.
You had worn them whenever possible for the longest time as a source of comfort both physically and mentally. These clothes, though, were better suited for lounging around the house than adventuring so it took naught but two weeks for them to end up to frayed to continue wearing. When Legend had taken them from you, he promised to fix them up to the best of his ability and then return them to you. And he did, but… he believed you had no need for the clothes anymore as you grew used to adventuring gear rather quickly and… Legend would feel guilty and ashamed for days on end considering what he did to the fabric. While good with a needle and thread, removing stubborn stains from fabric proved a bit more difficult than Legend had hoped for.
The hoodie had been the first article to be defiled. After it was patched up, Legend had tried it on out of curiosity and understood its charm. He also noticed that it must have been something you wore often given how heavily your scent clung to the soft cloth even after a few washes. The smell was warm, musky, and a little sweet like fresh bread and linen sheets and Legend could inhale it for hours on end if he was allowed. Whenever he had been alone with it for long periods of time, he would don it and trace his hands over it. His imagination conjured up images as wholesome as your embrace to something more… racy, such as feeling the dips and swells of your body beneath the hoodie or even slowly peeling it off of you to reveal a sea of bare skin ready to be inscribed with all manner of loving marks.
The second item was your pants. It was made of material as equally soft as the hoodie but thinner and therefore weaker. The inner thighs of the pants had already been frayed from prior use and those little holes were made more apparent due to the many hours of walking you had to do almost every day. Though you had lost some fat and replaced it with muscle, Legend imagined that the plush of your thighs would still strain and spill out of these little holes. Just wondering what it’d be like to kneel between your thighs and have a chance at kissing and licking at those spots of skin made Legend a weak man.
The third and final item was the one that brought Legend the most shame. Were he ever caught, he was sure he could explain away wearing or worshiping messing around with your hoodie or pants but… your underwear? No, there’s no coming back from that one. Not if he was found with his nose buried into the fabric. Not if he was found nibbling on it while all manner of saucy and raunchy thoughts invaded his mind. Not if it was revealed that, at one point in time, he had worn them for a full day and all it would take was for his tunic to flip up a little to reveal them.
Yeah… this collection of his was definitely going to stay private for awhile longer.
It was more than just material items that Legend considered to be a part of this growing collection of his, though. It was also moments and memories- things that were intangible and could never be bottled up. He could inscribe words onto paper, sure, but he was far from poetic and would hate to potentially soil these fond memories with lackluster writing. Memories like the first time you truly smiled at him. Memories like the sheer joy and victory that washed over your face when you successfully downed your first boss monster. Memories like your soft breathing against his neck when you had fallen asleep against his shoulder after partaking in some drinking games with him and the others.
And moments like what was happening right now.
Legend’s senses have never felt this electric before. Every smell in the air of the small inn room was sharp and distinct. Even when cloaked in shadow and dim moonlight, Legend could make out the contour of every dresser or picture frame with ease. His ears picked up on the sound of the outside breeze, the creaks of the floorboards, and the blood rushing through him. The taste of tonights dinner was still prevalent on his tongue along with the sweet undertones of the honey ale served to him by the inn’s staff. Lastly, there was the feeling of his clothes rubbing up against him whenever he moved or breathed, the way stray strands of his hair would tickle against his face, and the way you were tucked up against him.
Although five double rooms were booked for the night, it seems like the inn only had four to spare. As a result, Legend found himself sharing a single bed with you for the night. Fortunately, no one else knew of this arrangement as the innkeeper still told the group that five double rooms had been prepared for them. Unfortunately, however, was that the discovery of this single bed situation was only found out when you and Legend went to retire for the night. It was a shock to you both but you had recovered faster than he did and treated it far more casually too.
Stubborn as any Link, you had argued that it wasn’t that different than sleeping in the same tent together. After all, all that ever separated you from whoever your partner was for the night was a bed roll. It was this course of thought that caused you to drag Legend into the bed with you and then almost instantly knock out like a light. Had the two of you managed to stay on your respective side of the bed for the whole night would have potentially made him feel a little less nervous about the situation. As Legend quickly found out, though, you had a habit to latch onto things in your sleep.
Your head was nuzzled into the crook of his neck and your slow breaths cascaded down his throat and spanned across his collar bone. Your arms were loosely wrapped around his torso and although they felt lax in their grip, Legend didn’t have the strength in him to tear away. Despite trying to angle his body away from yours, your legs still ended up being intertwined with his own. You clung to him gently and completely- like something a lover would do and not a friend. That simple thought stirred up a storm in Legend’s heart and he had no idea how to calm it.
Legend was a bomb ready to blow. He didn’t know if he’d get up and run away like a coward or finally listen to the animalistic urge chittering in the back of his mind like the rabbit he loathed to be. The two courses of actions were locked with each other in a stalemate that had Legend sweating like a sinner in church. That is what he felt like at the moment and was, after all. Your body is a temple and he’d love to do nothing more than worship the holy grounds of your skin but he couldn’t. He was filthy, unclean, and drowned in sin. His mere presence near you in the moment felt like a violation to your being. Considering the many images and fantasies that have bounced around in his head more times than he can count, he felt he was ready to be burned at the stake.
You twitch and Legend freezes. He’s stiff as a board as you adjust your position in your sleep and he finds his nose nearly pressed up against the crown of your head. He caves and allows himself to inhale. It’s deep and filled to the brim with your scent. Your hair hadn’t been washed in a day so no smell of shampoo clung to it anymore but it was far more addicting that way.
Finally, Legend managed to move himself but it wasn’t away from you like he should. He idly carded a hand through your hair and marveled at the strands like they were made of gold. He did his best to not let his fingers get caught on any knots lest he wake you. Any number of lie could excuse his actions as nothing more than accidental but that would required Legend actually speaking and he was sure his throat had closed up the second he got into bed.
Legend twisted a small strand together and rubbed the tip of it between his fingers. The hair fibers were soft and smooth but not to the point of silk. It felt like messing around with the brush part of a newly crafted paint brush. Hmm… your hair would definitely make for an interesting tool if used in such a way but Legend quickly thought of something much better.
What sense of dignity and virtue he had left finally seemed to admit defeat as Legend reached to his side for the small dagger he carried with himself at all times. It was never smart to be without a weapon or tool- especially given his track record. He curled a small lock of hair around his finger until he reached your scalp. With precise movements, he brought the blade to your hair and began to saw against it. In a moments time, Legend pulled his hands away and with it came his newest prize.
With nothing to tie the hair up with, Legend resorted to knotting it onto itself. A single knot would be enough to do the job and then it was tucked away into his pocket without problem. While this all happened, you remained snoozing away. Your peaceful image made Legend’s heart twist with guilt and shame but the giddiness of obtaining a new treasure soothed the ache.
“Mmmmmmph…”
With a tiny groan, you hoisted yourself up onto your elbows and away from Legend. The ice that was in his veins only minutes ago return with a vengeance as Legend realizes that he’s about to be caught. To torment him even further, his burst of shamelessness scurries away and his moral code- no matter how busted and dingy it now was- had his face flushed full of embarrassment.
“Mmmmmmmmhhh… Legend?” You called out as you cracked open your bleary eyes. Your voice was rough from just waking up and still interwoven with fatigue. It had to have been the cutest you’ve sounded yet in Legend’s opinion.
“What?” Legend huffed after a beat. Narrowing his eyes and crossing his arms, the man did his best to appear as his normal, snarky self.
“What time is it?” You ask as you rapidly blink and rub at your eyes.
“Still nighttime. You have a nightmare?” Legend replies before asking his own question. Whenever the group was staying in an inn, you always managed to sleep like a log. So, to see you randomly wake up after only a few hours of sleep, Legend felt that something was amiss.
“No… jus’ overheating,” You murmured out. It seemed like a higher power was not yet done poking fun at Legend tonight as you began to remove your shirt. Any protest for you to stop died on Legend’s tongue. Even in the lackluster moonlight sneaking in through the curtains, Legend could make out the silhouette of your side and the detailing of your skin. The sheen of sweat collected on you was obvious proof that you weren’t lying to Legend or finding some excuse to shed your shirt. A small, sick part of him wondered if you’d shed more and if he should copy you and what your reaction would be and if you’d grant him the ultimate wish of allowing his dreams to become reality.
You leaned back and flopped back onto your side with a huff and didn’t bother to cover yourself back up with a blanket. You were overheating and that was to be expected but it sure as hell was making things so much worse. How the hell was he expected to get any sleep now?! Your exposed back is right there! All of its intricate layers of muscle and soft pads of fat made his fingers twitch just… just a little touch won’t hurt, will it? He watched as a bead of sweat grew big enough to lazily run down your back he suddenly found himself feeling very parched. He couldn’t tell if this was meant to be another gift or some form of divine punishment for the unsavory things he’s done.
When a low groan rumbled from you and you tossed around for a bit, Legend was reminded that this was rather uncomfortable for you. He got up and went over to his bag for something to help. Upon finding a rag and a bottle of cool water, Legend knew exactly what to do.
In the blink of an eye, he was right back at you side. He wasted no time in wiping you down and his heart fluttered when a relaxed noise left your mouth at his actions. He handed you the bottle of water while he made sure not a drop of sweat was left clinging to you. He did his best to keep his breathing under control and to not wipe down too hard with his shaking grip. After one of the best ten minutes he’s had in awhile, he pulls away and gives you some space.
“Thank… you…” you whisper before falling back asleep. Legend is too laser focused on the damp rag in his hands to respond. He’d look over at you every minute to check on how deep of a sleep you were in. Once he was sure you were fast asleep, he made his escape.
When you awoke in the morning, it was thanks to Wind flopping onto you and squeezing the breath out of you. You shoved the little shit off and waited for Legend to bark out some heated words at him but he didn’t. In fact… where was Legend?
“He’s already downstairs with everyone else. In fact, Time said that he was up before him,” Wind answers the unasked question. He leans in a little with an exaggerated expression on his face. “I’d avoid him if I were you, though. He’s acting sort of- ugh, nice. It’s creepy.”
With the warning(?) in mind, you went downstairs with Wind after you got changed. True to his word, Legend bore a slightly more lax and passive face than he usually did in the morning. You were sure your eyes were fooling you at this point but did he just smile at you???
“Sleep well? Sorry if I made you lose any z’s thanks to my hot flash,” You speak up once you’re sat down beside Legend.
“No, no… it’s alright,” Legend idly responds. This time you’re completely sure that he’s smiling because you’ve never seen him smile so… animalistically before. He may not have had Twilight’s sharper teeth, but you knew a wolfish grin when you saw one. He leaned in close, spurred on by a sudden burst of confidence, and whispered into your ear behind a cupped hand. The words confused you at first but quickly caused your face to nearly match Legend’s tunic.
“Is everything alright?” Hyrule pipes up once he notices you and Legend. The innocent lad tilts his head at lack of response from either of you and you don’t dare to look him in those big ol’ pools of green. Besides, how could you tell him of all people what Legend just said?
He’d never look at his predecessor the same way ever again if he heard that filth.
Finally, I got this finished. I had hoped to get this posted about two days earlier but damn did ending it kick my ass six ways 'til Sunday. I also changed the title of this fic because I kept reading the old title and it didn't gel as well as it used to for me. It may be a bit generic in my eyes, but it works. Although I do like him, I feel like I'm not the best at imagining or summarizing what Warriors' character is like. I still tried my best and am satisfied enough with the result. Enjoy!
TW: Yandere themes, gore, blood, long and detailed descriptions of torture, slightly suggestive in certain parts, some self deprecation on Wars' part, Wars is pretty... fucked up
Being pretty wasn’t easy- and Wars knew this well. Yes, you could be considered attractive, but that was so… surface level. Surface level was enough to make merchants a bit more lenient towards you, makes it easier to obtain gossip, and made making “friends” less tiresome. Walking the walk wasn’t the hard part of being pretty. It was the talk.
To be pretty, handsome, desirable, beautiful, and more, required work. It required proper etiquette and good habits. It required a level head and a pleasant attitude. It required a good handle on your emotions regardless the situation. It required all of this and more. If you failed at any of this, even for a moment, pretty could get ugly.
For the longest time, Wars believed himself to be good at staying pretty. He knew he was on the surface- he wouldn’t be teased by his brothers otherwise if he wasn’t. He was usually chosen to be the face of the group when it came to handling locals and gathering information. A handsome face and charming attitude was nicer to deal with than a rugged face or snarky personality. No offense to Time and… maybe some offense to Legend.
It was tiresome. Playing nice with others he would sooner prefer to ignore or even berate. Hero he may be, he never saw himself as the tried and true goody-goody type. Thankfully, though, he didn’t have to be that with his brothers. He could partake in stupid games such as who can smash the most pots in a minute or who can last the longest in a cucco pen. He could make all sorts of dirty and dark jokes and have laughter answer him instead of shocked faces and gasps. It was freeing to be around his brothers- to forgo the title of hero and just be him.
And then you came along.
It was an unwelcome adjustment, at first. At all times now did he have to put on the facade of being this charming and polished hero. He forced himself to come to your aid whenever you stumbled or struggled with the journey they were on. Came to your defense whenever one of his brothers would snap at you for making a rookie mistake. It was clockwork to him. But you, on the other hand, weren’t.
“Wars? Mind if I talk to you about something? Uhm, privately?” You ask as you approach him with a noticeable level of hesitancy. It peaked Wars’ curiosity by a tad but he was far from surprised. He was your regular confidant amidst the group, after all.
“Sure,” Wars agrees as he follows you a distance away from the group. He wondered what you wanted to tell him this time. Was Legend getting too snarky with you again? Was Time making your training too rough to handle? Maybe Wind played a prank on you that crossed a line? Or was it not related to them at all? Perhaps you were feeling homesick and just wanted to talk one on one or just wanted to confide in him about something personal?
“Could you just… stop?”
… Huh?
“Listen I… appreciate you for what you’re doing- truly, I do. But… you don’t have to force yourself to like me or make the others like me,” You sigh and face him with a complex expression. Displeasure was the emotion Wars could make out the clearest and it made him squirm more than he’d like to admit.
“I… what? I’m not sure I follow,” Wars replied robotically. “Could you elaborate on what you mean?”
“I think I’m being clear enough already,” You sigh again but it’s deeper this time and Wars only finds himself growing more jittery. Why? Why was that? Why was your displeasure with him suddenly so… bad? “Please, just… stop with the facade. I’d rather you dislike me, or even hate me, then be some kind of- of fake friend with me. It’s not nice.”
Wars was left gaping like a fish. Even as you grew more suspicious with his silence and eventually walked away because of it, Wars couldn’t even formulate a word. Why was this shaking him up so badly? It was an act, yes, but… was it really? Had he actually grown to like you? Perhaps he had… and Wars didn’t know how to feel about it.
The next few days were awkward, to say the least. You’d seek out help from anyone else and Wars didn’t pipe up once. The tension was not missed by his brothers, but they didn’t butt in to help. Honestly, some seemed to enjoy the fact that the spot by your side was now left open. It was a bitter pill to swallow when Wars noticed that. Why?
He fell back on his training as a knight in hopes it would help him. When wanting to learn about the target, one must observe. He gathered intel left, right, and center in hopes of quelling the rapids of unease in his chest. He asked pestered his brothers about you whenever he was one on one with them. He’d strategically place himself behind you when the group traveled so he could watch you without worry. The more he observed, the more he learned, made him only grow more confused and… yearn.
Why were you asking Twilight how to ride horses? He could teach you that! It was drilled into him when he was training to be a knight, so no need to turn to the ranch hand for help! Why were you pestering Time for stories? Wars was a captain during a time of war! He had many stories to tell you (the not so gruesome ones, of course) and they’d be just as interesting! And why were you wanting to go into town with Legend? He’s good with merchants too, y’know?!
The unease in his chest only grew each day. The rapids had turned into a tsunami and the waters grew murky with green. The snarling and biting sensation of his heart hurt- like a viper had seized it. These boiling and bubbling feelings were awful and gross and disgusting and ugly. Pay attention to me! Think of me! Come to me first! Ask for my help! Look at me! Look at me! Look at me look at me look at me look at me look at me look at me look at me look at me LOOK AT ME!
As his patience was about to run dry, Hylia finally threw him a bone.
When it came to espionage, Wars was almost always the first pick. It was obvious he was the best suited for it considering he bothered to take care of himself and had formal etiquette drilled into him like a screw. Though, this event he had to sneak into was different. Why? Because it was a couple’s event and by a stroke of luck, you were his partner for the night.
Even though the outfit and make-up you were dolled up in was basic, Wars felt flabbergasted. He was so used to you being slightly grimey and dirtied up like most of the others that he never realized what all was hiding underneath that. For the first time in what felt like years, his heart was floating along on crystal clear waters. Despite this mission being supposedly high risk, Wars couldn’t help but feel relaxed as he had your hand in his nearly the whole night. Having you cling to him and coo at him, no matter how fake, had him light headed. Not even a higher power would be able to rip his gaze from you. Not like they’d be any more divine than you were.
From that night onward, Wars knew his place beside you now. While he missed being your sole confidant, he couldn’t exactly complain about his new role. A role that allowed him to be privy to every detail about you. From your routines to your clothes to your diet to your habits and even to your body. He’s lived around a castle and royalty long enough to know how to be an attendant.
He had to start small and work his way up. Given that your relationship with him was still on slightly rocky waters, he had to be patient yet again. Suggestions on what to potentially wear or little tips about hygiene were a good start in his mind. Just words, no touching- yes, that’s fine for now. Far from what he fully wants, but it’s enough to tide him over in the beginning.
And then… hmm… would you mind if he did your hair, (Name)? Nothing too fancy- just wanting to make sure it’s being taken care of and there’s a new style he thinks you might like. It’s an even mix of practical and fashionable and he’s sure you’ll like it. Hmm? Oh no no no no no! He wasn’t smelling your hair he was worshiping it, he was just getting close to get a piece of fuzz out! That’s all!
Also, what do you think about wearing this tunic with this pair of pants? He thinks the colors look well together. If it’s not your style, how about a few other outfits he came up with? Perhaps… a good ol’ green tunic to top off this pair of brown pants? Maybe maroon with something more tan colored? How about something bright like yellow? Or… oh, you’d look good in royal blue. … Oh? Why was he doing that? Well, you complained about having to pick out an outfit at times so he thought he’d help you out! Besides, he knows you trust in his style! So… is it okay if he takes care of that for you now? Okay? Okay! Great! And, uhm… do you need help getting dressed? Well, you did twist your ankle a few days ago and he wants to make sure you don’t irritate it while getting dressed. A-Are you sure? Positive? Well, okay… he’ll be right outside while you change just in case you need help please.
Ah ah ah! Don’t you give him that look! Look at your hands, do you really think you should be gripping a spoon at the moment? More than half of the soup is ending up back in the bowl and all over you, so just let him help! He’ll make sure to blow on it so that it’s not too hot, he promises. He’ll also handle getting you seconds or even thirds- yes, thirds. You need meat on your bones just as much as the rest of them and you know Wild cooks as much as he can for dinner. Just remember to open wide and say ah~.
He knows, he knows- it’s cold. Just do your best to stay still for him, will you? Can’t have your pores staying gunked up for much longer or else you could break out or even get sick. Also, your face will just feel nicer once he’s done. He’ll be careful around your eyes and lips. Actually, speaking of lips, why don’t you try out this lip balm he’s been using. No no no, don’t swat his hands- he’s just making sure to apply the right about. And… hold on, just a little more… there! Don’t your lips feel much better now? Look at how plump and pink they are now! Pretty, yes? Please just let him kiss them.
Hey! Settle down, you’ll just make your injuries worse! Yes, yes, you’re a capable adult and can wash yourself but look at you! There aren’t any potions or fairies to spare and Hyrule just knocked himself out from using too much magic! Now, please… let him help. Please, it hurts him to see you hurting like this. He won’t wash anywhere you don’t want him to and he’ll make sure to be as gentle as possible when it comes to dressing your wounds. He promises. Cross his heart and hope to die.
So, yes…
He was very content with his new role.
But don’t think this praise is one sided- oh no. He expects you to praise him back. He needs you to. If you don’t… well, he doesn’t mean to be dramatic but he’s sure his heart would stop beating.
So, please, praise him. Yes, comb your hands through his hair and admire how soft it is. No no, he doesn’t care that he just styled it- he can always style it again. Do you like it? Do you want to try out the products he’s been using? Ah, the way your fingers massage and scratch at his scalp feel lovely. Do keep going- he really doesn’t mind.
Hm? Does his voice really sound that nice? It’s nothing much, really, just his natural accent mixed with the elegancy expected from someone of his rank and title. If you like it so much… would you like to listen to him narrate a few poems he wrote? He’s been meaning to proof read them, anyways. Proof reading is easier when done aloud and with someone else there to check his work. Don’t cut back on criticism or praise- he wants to hear all of it.
Woah! No, it’s okay! It’s okay, it’s okay! You didn’t mean to barge in on him and it’s not like he’s indecent- just shirtless. But, since you’re here… would you do him a favor? He’s been checking himself out- wanting to see if his new training regiment is doing him any good. Do his biceps look bigger than before? Are his abs more defined? What do you mean he could just look in the mirror? Those things add ten pounds, you know! Just spoil him a little, wouldn’t you? He wants to hear your opinion because it’s the only one that ever matters to him anymore. No matter what he thinks of himself anymore, it’s nothing compared to how you see him. He’s all beautiful and pretty and dolled up just for you. Tell him what to change, what to do, how to act and he’ll follow every order to a T. Whatever it takes for you to hold him and touch him like he’s the embodiment of luxury. Mold the clay of his person into a masterpiece and admire the art turned life before you. Please just treasure him even a fraction of how he treasures you.
This perfect balance he had achieved with you was what made him wake up in the morning- figuratively and literally. He was there for almost every step of your daily routine now. Big or small, he had some hand in it even if you didn’t realize it. He had worked out every minute detail to the point that he’s not suffocating but he’ll never be far either. He’s good at what he does and he knows it- you make sure he does. He never gets less than five words of praise a day and if you short him- unknowingly, of course, you’re not cruel not like her- then he just has to perform at 110% the next day. So…
“The swelling and redness isn’t going down. It’s clearly poison. From what, I don’t know yet, but I intend to find out as soon as possible and have someone pay for doing this to them.”
How could he have let this happen?
You laid prone in the inn’s bed looking like you had just had your face slammed into a nest of vengeful hornets. It was swollen beyond belief and too red. Wild was silent as he slowly spooned homemade porridge into your mouth. His long and unkempt hair cascaded down his shoulders and covered his face. Wars didn’t need to look Wild in the eye to know how he silently sobbed- he was no better, after all.
“Any idea as to what happened?” Hyrule’s question draws Wars out of his stupor. He looks over at the brunette with an empty gaze. Hyrule narrows his eyes and waits with hands on hips for Wars to answer. Seconds tick by and Wars makes no sound but ultimately shakes his head.
“How… how do you not know? You’re always by their side…” Wild quietly pipes up. He’s barely turned his head and Wars can see his red rimmed eyes staring straight through him. Sadness pools in them and rage makes it seem like his tears are about to start boiling as they fall down his cheeks. Wars understood Wild’s feelings because they were his own. The wild haired man seemed ready to pin the blame on Wars and pounce so he could let out his emotion. Wars didn’t know if he’d bother to defend himself.
“I can’t think of anyone who would want to do this. We haven’t pissed off anyone in town yet nor have they,” Hyrule sighs as he returns to your side. He lets a healing spell fall from his hands to bring you some comfort. The swelling and redness doesn’t fade a bit since whatever poisoned you was actively affecting you. You barely make a sound in reaction to Hyrule’s spell or Wild continuing to feed you. Could you even speak? Did you even register that they were there or was Wars illusioning himself into believing you were even smidge bit lucid?
The door to the room bursts open and Wars doesn’t have time to snap at the intruder until he’s being slammed against the wall. Rough hands close in on his throat with a crushing grip and Wars finds himself staring into the crazed eyes of Twilight. The larger man is huffing and puffing like a raging bull and sporting his abnormally sharp teeth. For a few tense moments, Twilight does nothing more than stare down Wars. Was he debating on strangling him or tearing into his neck with his fangs? Perhaps both given that Twilight was about to blow.
“You… you… did this,” Twilight accuses as he presses Wars against the wall even harder. The accusation chills Wars to the bone as he looks over to you. He felt like this was his fault anyways but… for him to actually be the one who harmed you? How? How was that possible?! He does everything he can to support you and comfort you! He would sooner cut off his own hands than let them bring you harm! So how… how could he… what did he…
Something is slapped against his face and he suddenly finds it hard to breathe. As he coughs and sneezes, powder comes out. He swipes at his face to wipe off whatever Twilight had slapped onto him but it only seems to spread it more. A wet and cold towel is scrubbed against his skin as Hyrule jumps into action to save Wars from what is likely the supposed “poison”.
“Enough!” Hyrule yells as he stops cleaning Wars’ face. He looks over at Twilight with rage that had finally boiled over. “What the hell are you doing, Twilight?! What good are you trying to achieve by poisoning one of us?! Especially with (Name) in the room?!”
“It’s his fault!” Twilight snaps back. He picks up a round, blue container from the ground and nearly shoves it back in Wars’ face. Wars’ eye nearly fall out of their sockets when he recognizes what it is. “He bought this the other night and put it on their face this morning. When I was looking through (Name)’s belongings to find what may have poisoned them, the stench of this powder caught my attention. I don’t know what it is but it smelled rancid.”
“Foundation…” Wars croaks out as he stares at the container and the powder on himself. “It… it was supposed to be foundation. I bought it the other night from a cosmetic merchant. I looked through their wares and- and all of it seemed well made and luxurious. I-It was supposed to be a gift and… and they loved it. I put it on their face this morning and it went on so nicely and they looked so lovely and… and… and then…”
Wars sinks to the floor with a choked sob. He shakes and crawls over to your bedside with his eyes trained on your poor face the whole time. He can see you try to look over at him past the swollen lids of your eyes but he doubts you can see much at all. He wants to reach out to you and comfort you through the pain. To caress your face and whisper sweet words. To pepper gentle kisses across your skin while he murmurs out his adoration but he can’t. He’s tainted by the very thing that harms you now. He bought and handed you the very poison that swells and reds your skin. He recalls how you trusted him- like you always do- when he applied your make up this morning. And now look at you- look at what he’s done to you.
He’s pulled away from you by the collar of his shirt and nearly dragged out of the room. Twilight forces him to his feet and looks him dead in the eye. Although he’s had his outburst, his eyes are still simmering with anger. Wars can hear heavy footsteps echo behind him before Time comes into view. He looks over Twilight’s shoulder and gives Wars his own stoney scowl with both eyes open perhaps a sign to Wars that he was also angry about what happened.
“Legend is currently isolating the offender away from the town. You are to meet him at the appointed place and take over from there. The poor bastard’s fate is going to be in your hands and when I come to check in on you within three hours, I better find that you’ve dealt him due punishment. I’ll let your imagination run wild with the possibilities of what will be done to you should you not meet my expectations. Understood?” Time tsked. His look and tone made it clear that this order might as well be regarded as law.
“Yes sir,” Warriors nodded. He straightened up and dusted himself up. Slowly, training was taking over him and seeping into every fiber of his being as he marched out of the building. He carried himself with purpose as he walked to where Legend was supposedly waiting for him. Crowds parted to let the man through as it was clear he was on a mission and the malice that seeped off of him was enough to make even the guards look the other way.
The well paved roads of the town quickly turned into nothing more than well trodded dirt pebbled with rocks and gravel. After more walking, moss and more overgrowth overtook the ground. Wars had to give it to the Veteran- he was good when it came to preparation. He had likely dragged the man off to a secluded area far enough away from town that no one could hear any screams. He also imagined that the Vet had picked out a secluded area that would be hard to see and get to.
“Fucking finally…” came the tired groan of a bored Legend as he emerged from the tree line. He may have put on a good poker face of being nothing more than annoyed, but Wars could easily see through it. Eyes were the window to the soul, after all, and Legend was positively burning. “I’ve gotten tired of listening to the bastard whimper and cry. Be lucky that I had the patience and benevolence to save him for you.”
“I’m more surprised than anything, Legend. The fact that you’re not jumping at me and trying to tear me a new one is a little… off putting,” Wars huffed. Legend only grins at the man and approaches him with a saunter. He claps a hand onto Wars’ shoulder and leers up at the captain.
“Oh, I wanted to and I still very much want to right now. But, then, I got to thinking about how you’re now here and not beside them like some sort of dog on a leash. Hyrule trusts me greatly so there’s no doubt in my mind that I can be at their side for hours on end without interruption. Given what you did to them- and I do plan to tell them everything- they’ll surely appreciate me being there instead of you, don’tcha think? I always thought I looked better beside them than you ever did. After today, I’m sure they’ll agree,” Legend provokes as he smiles snarls at Wars. It takes every shred of willpower Wars can spare to not deck Legend in the face right then and there. Legend obviously notices the barely masked rage and laughs. He gives Wars a pat on the back and struts off while whistling.
Wars stalks down the slope Legend had come from before dropping down a small ledge. His boots squelched as they sunk into the thick moss of the cave floor. In the very back, illuminated by a few lanterns, sat the perp. He was bound up to a wooden chair thanks to thick strands of rope and chains. He was gagged but not blindfolded. His gaze met Wars and, for a fraction of a second, he seemed relieved- as if he expected Wars to be his savior. Naturally, these delusions were dismissed the moment the bound man caught a glimpse of Wars’ ice cold scowl and clear look of intent.
Instead of immediately lashing out at the merchant, Wars observes what tools he’s been left to work with: A pair of shears, some rusty knives, a bottle of green and viscous liquid, and a few rods of metal. Of course Legend wouldn’t leave him with anything good. The thing that Wars seemed to have the most hope in was that bottle of liquid but that could be saved for later. Save the best for last and all that…
“What shall I start with first? Something small, of course, but nonetheless painful. Can’t have you dying too soon, can we?” Wars sighed in annoyance as he combed a hand through his hair. After some contemplation, he picked up the pair of shears and directed them to the merchants hands. “Let’s get rid of those pesky fingers, shall we? I think that would be a lovely place to start.”
With anger fueling him and well defined muscle lining his arms, chopping through each finger didn’t require much more effort than chopping carrots did. It sounded rather similar to it too, just with a bit more snap. Wars took his time too- bothering to get the bladed edges of the shears comfortable against each joint before he slammed a hand down on the handle. Despite his control and technique, the process still went by too quickly for Wars.
Putting the shears to the side for the moment, Wars armed himself with one of the rusted over knifes. The blade was so dull that it likely couldn’t even cut butter but Wars would make it work. He brought the knife to the man’s arm and began to cut against it with a sawing motion. It took a few back and forth motions for the skin to finally give in but Wars stopped the second that happened. He moved the blade over by a hairs length and began again. With each cut made, he would move the blade over and begin to slice again.
Were Wars a naturally more savage man, he would have caved into his rage and pummeled the sinner into broken bones and gore the second he was left along with him. It sounded tempting, he wouldn’t lie, but this felt much better to him. The slow increase of pain and letting the man before him hang on a thread for however long he allowed was much more soothing to him. Death by a thousand cuts would take awhile but awhile was something Wars didn’t exactly have and it would be too lenient in Time’s eyes.
Wars’ next pick were the metal rods. He grabbed the heaviest and thickest of them all and tested the weight of it in his hand. Once he had a sure grip, he wasted no time in introducing it to the merchant’s knees. Over and over and over and over and over again did Wars slam the makeshift weapon into the sinner’s kneecaps. Only once he heard and felt each knee pop and crack below his blows did Wars move on. In a single, powerful strike, Wars hit the man across the face with the rod and broke his nose.
The damage he’s done so far was good but not enough. The man was barely lucid anymore- overwhelmed by pain and bloodloss. The idea of removing his gag and listening to him plead for a few minutes was now out of the question. Were Wars not so limited on tools and too clouded by emotion, he was sure he could do a lot more.
Arming himself with the knives once again, Wars finally began to stab him. It wasn’t relentless and wild, but calculated. He wanted each stab wound to not be overlapped by another so he could count each one at the end of this all. Given the poor state of his equipment, the knives were quick to bend after about ten stabs each. Once the blade of each knife had bent, Wars turned back to his trusty shears to continue the job. He made sure no inch of skin was left untouched by his rage. Even once he felt like he had gotten to each part of the man possible, he untied him from the chair and flopped him down onto the ground to get to his back. He was long since dead by now, but that wasn’t going to stop Wars.
The minutes trickled on by as Wars continued his work. He grew sweaty and his arms ached but he refused to rest. With his hands slick from blood and sweat, his palms sliced across the blade of his shears more than once as the metal refused to stay steady in his grip. It stung but it was a welcome sting- it brought him away from the monotony of his actions.
“I see you’ve done well to keep yourself busy,” Time’s voice muses and it jolts Wars away from his actions. He stands up and greets the older man with a curt nod before stepping away from the body. He lets Time get a good look at the corpse and hopes that it’s up to the man’s liking. Time also looks at the bloody and/ or broken tools Wars had used. He merely hummed and picked up the bottle that Wars had forgotten about.
“How are they?” Wars asks as he discards his shears.
“Better. Their face isn’t fully red and swollen anymore, but it’s patchy and sensitive. A welcome improvement but still a sight none of us like to see,” Time replies. He uncorks the glass bottle and tips it over. The thick liquids falls out in blobs and seeps into the open wounds of the corpse. It takes Wars a moment to realize that it wasn’t some sort of acid like he had originally suspected. Instead, it was a juvenile chu chu. Good thing Wars didn’t use it or else he’d have nothing to show Time.
“That’s good to hear. Any idea when they’ll be fully recovered?” Wars inquires further.
“They should be mostly healed up in about two days, but Hyrule recommended to not have them wear anything on their face for about a week,” Time answers as he discards the bottle. He glares down once more at the body before looking back up at Wars and gives him a curt nod. “Not bad for what you had. It’ll do.”
With Time’s approval, Wars lets his shoulders sag and a breath of relief leaves him. He follows the older hero out of the cave and away from the scene. Wars tears off a few strips of cloth from his shirt to cover his bleeding hands as a makeshift bandage. He’d heal them up once back with the rest of the group. He’d also have to remember to get a change of clothes as his were very wet and very red.
He paid minimal attention to his brothers when he returned back to the inn. He fell back onto his routine to get cleaned up. He rushed at certain parts when he remembered that you were nearby and potentially hopefully waiting for him. Once he had triple checked himself and made sure no blood or poison still clung to him, he snuck over to your room. Realistically, you’d be sleeping but even getting a glimpse of your relaxed face would be far better than the pain you were in earlier.
“Warriors?” Oh… you were up.
With the face of a man caught red handed, Wars stopped trying to sneak into the room. He was still quiet as not to disrupt the peaceful air nor to alert his brothers that currently laid sleeping rooms over.
“Yes?” Wars whispered as he sat down on the chair at you bedside. It held some residual warmth, so whoever had accompanied you earlier hadn’t been gone long. If Wars had to guess, he would be all in on it being Legend.
“Where have you been? I vaguely remember you and Hyrule and… Twilight, I think? Getting into an argument earlier. I think I feel asleep and then woke up with Legend beside me…” You recount. Wars feels his heart drop to chest despite having the Vet tell him what he planned on doing.
“I’m sorry,” Wars apologies quietly as his shaking hands reach out to grab your own. He pulls them in close and presses a gentle kiss to both knuckles and palms. “I’m- I’m so sorry…”
“Don’t apologize,” You sigh and Wars shakes his head. No, no you couldn’t forgive him for this. He hurt you- he doesn’t deserve forgiveness. But, then… that wouldn’t exactly be you then, would it? You always forgave them for what they did, whether or not you knew the full extent of it. You always forgave them and never stopped loving them which only made Wars’ heart clench and hurt more in the moment. Even with your face starting to look like you once again, he could still make out the residual damage done.
A hand cards its ways through Wars’ hair and massages the back of his neck. With a small grunt, Wars leans over and rests his head against your chest. He believed you should sooner be slapping him than caressing him, but he wasn’t going to argue. You were stubborn as a mule and who was he to go against your word and decisions?
“It’s okay, Link. You didn’t mean for this to happen so don’t go blaming yourself,” You coo as you continue to love on him. Hearing his name fall from your lips never failed to make him shiver and feel so vulnerable. It was such a wonderful and liberating feeling- to be the apple in your eye. Although he felt rotten and worm infested to the core, you still held him and admired him like he was ruby red and ripe from the tree. To be loved for both his pretty and ugly sides meant more to him than he could ever convey. He just hoped that, in all the he did, you would have an inkling of an idea of this.
“Look at me?”
The order was so tender and mild that he felt like it was sooner addressed to a babe and not him. Nonetheless, Wars didn’t hesitate to lift his head up and look at you. In the depths of your pupils could he see his reflection. His hair was unkempt and ruffled up by you hands. His thick lashes were misted by tears and his ocean blue eyes wobbled as he held your gaze. His skin was clean and cleared of any concealer so every pore and flaw were visible. Even in this state, he watched your eyes soften and crinkle into something so warm and sweet that made him feel like this was his most stunning moments yet.
“My pretty boy…” You whispered as you held his head his heart, his soul, his very ambition and will to live in your hand.
“Yes…” Wars croaked as he nuzzled against the silky skin of your palm. It was in these tender moments did Wars finally understand what salvation meant. “Your pretty boy… pretty just for you.”
Okay, so my yandere kick may be lasting a little longer than expected. Though, I do have an idea for a series (?) now. It'll be a story focusing on each of the boys and letting them have their time to shine in their, ahem, devotion. Although he's not my fav boy of the bunch (still love him though), Sky's story came to me first and it came in swingin'. It's a little shorter than my previous posts but I hope you all enjoy!
TW: Yandere themes, blood, gore, descriptions of torture, a lot of talk about harm by fire, Sky goes off the deep end
The chunk of wood in his hands was unassuming. It was light, partly sanded, and cut from a stray piece of driftwood. Unlike logs or planks used in building houses or inns, this wood was soft. So when his knife began to scratch and peel at it, the wood offered no resistance. With nimble and trained fingers, Sky carved away at the wood. His motions were fluid and he showed no fear of nicking himself on the sharp blade of his carving knife. Even as the wood started to form into a recognizable shape, Sky did not pause. Every cut was nearly rhythmic- musical if the wood could sing.
Eventually, Sky sets down his blade and picks up a finer tool. He starts carving out a set of small eyes and then a little, pointed beak. He begins to sharpen the outlines of plumage on the carving’s chest and adds tiny details to its folded wings. The petite talons come next and are shortly followed by refining the tail feathers. Finally, Sky pauses to wipe off the carving and looks at the little bird now resting in his palm. It was a plump little finch that looked absolutely adorable.
The smile on Sky’s face when he stares at his creation is large and blissful. Gently, he brings it up to his lips and kisses the wooden figure. The kiss lasts for a few seconds before Sky pulls his newest creation away.
“My little songbird…” Sky sighs with content. He continues to give the figure doe eyes full of nothing but admiration and love as if the chunk of wood hung the very sun up in the sky. His vision is suddenly blocked as hands cover his eyes. The hands are gentle and soft as not to accidentally hurt the Skyloftian. Even before they speak, Sky knows exactly who this is.
“Guess who~”
“Hmm… did you get a new callous on your hands, Time? I though we told you to take better care of your hands?” Sky jests.
“Wha- hey! There’s no way my hands are anything like that of the Old Man’s!” You gawk as you pull away from Sky. He laughs, light and carefree as the breeze. Before you can back away any further, he grabs you and pulls you down to the ground with him. His smile is blinding as he stares at your pouting face. He resists the urge to pinch or pull at your puffed up cheeks even if he finds your mock annoyance to be irresistible.
“Ah, lighten up! Here, look at what I made!” Sky giggles as he shows you the little finch carving in his hand. The sour look is immediately replaced by something gentle and sweet that has Sky practically puffing up his chest. Like it was made of glass, you take the carving from Sky and observe his craftsmanship. You run your fingers across every notch and groove, engrossed with every detail.
“It’s so cute, Sky! It’s a finch, right?” You ask as you continue to examine the bird.
“Yup! Aaaaaaannnnndddd… it’s yours. I already have enough wooden carvings as is and I know how much you love anything related to animals,” Sky announces. He feels his heart melt as your smile widens even further. You hold it close to your chest and Sky does everything he can to not think about how his lips had just touched the carving. How the wood he had kissed was now flush against your bare skin.
“If you keep making little figurines for me, the rest of the boys will think you have a favorite among us,” You warn with a light hearted tone.
“But what if you are my favorite person? I’ve no problem with letting anyone know that, you know. If they want to be jealous, let them. I’ve no time to deal with their pettiness,” Sky counters. You roll your eyes at him, not taking the comment seriously. You lean forward and place a quick kiss to Sky’s cheek. He suddenly finds himself incapable of breathing as his cheek burns from the action.
“Anyway, Wild wanted me to stop by and tell you that lunch is almost ready. Venison and cabbage stew,” You state before walking away. Sky doesn’t respond or even react to let you know that he heard you. After a few more moments, Sky’s body finally draws breath and he’s left panting against the tree he had been sitting against. His eyes are barely open and are dilated to the fullest degree possible. His grin was loopy and loose like he was buzzed out on the best drug in all the realms. And he was.
And it was called obsession love.
The love he felt was like the sun itself. It was blinding as he registered nothing but you whenever you were around. It was full of life as everything seemed a little more lively when you were near it. It was immense as his senses were overwhelmed by you, you, you.
And by the stars above did it burn.
Any touch from you felt like it would scald his skin in the best way possible. He waited patiently for the day to come that your touch would finally leave a mark. That his body would become a tapestry for you to torch with your gentle hands and sweet words. When his patience ran thin on certain days, he considered asking the Smithy for a hot rod of iron so you could finally brand him. Brand him as yours and yours alone.
But you would never do that- not even if Sky pleaded with you to do so. Even though he and everyone else were broken and battered souls, victims of a vicious cycle he started, you handled them like they were priceless. You would hold them during rough nights as their demons clawed at their minds. You’d do your best to rock them in your grip like they were no more than babes out of the crib. Your whispered praises and hummed lullabies were sweet and addictive like honey straight from the pot. You had to know the affect you had on him and the others.
And if you didn’t, Sky would have to remedy that immediately.
He would sing songs of your kindness until his lips went dry and his throat bled and cracked. He would write pages of poetry in your name until his hands gave out and even then he wouldn’t stop. He would slay monsters and men alike and serve you only the best pieces of them on a silver platter as tribute. He’d parade through the streets of towns and settlements with nothing but word of you on his tongue so others may know of true divinity and not the falsehoods that were practiced in their churches. He’d get down to the very ground like a worm, a maggot, a bug and kiss the soles of your feet with more reverence than Hylia herself has ever seen. Whatever it took, he would do.
“Oi, Airhead. You done spacing out?” Legend jabs as he pokes Sky’s side. Sky blinks a little and realizes that he’s back at camp. When did he get here? For how long has he been zoning out? He hadn’t made a fool of himself in front of you, had he? Would you like that, if he did? Would you want that?
“I’m here,” Sky coughs as he goes back to eating the soup served to him by Wild. He looks around the camp for you and finds that you’re sitting in between Wind and Hyrule. From what he can hear, you’re telling them a story about something that once happened to you. Just a random and wacky tale about an event in your life, but Wind is absolutely enraptured by it and Sky believes Hyrule’s eyes are a blink away from turning into hearts. He smiles at the sight, happy that his brothers know to look at you with nothing less than pure devotion and admiration at your every word and action.
He didn’t bother to butt in, though. He was perfectly content with observing your brilliance from where he was sitting. Your exaggerated movements, your lopsided grin, your inability to stop yourself from chuckling before any punchlines were delivered- it was all so divine. Even with the noon sun shining down on the group, you shined brighter. It was as if you were the Goddess of Light, not Hylia. And you were, he knew you were. She was little more than a fraud compared to you. Her light was cold and unwelcoming. Your light was warm and comfortable and gentle and beautiful and addicting and so much more than Sky could ever hope to describe.
But there were also times Sky believed you were a divine being of fire.
While Sky wanted to keep you away from the battlefield at all times, he couldn’t deny the presence you had on the field. You were quick to find out you had a stronger arm than you realized and wanted to put it to good use. Unlike the rest of them, you preferred the blunt and brutals ways of a mace over a blade any day. Slowly, you began to armor yourself in metal plate and padding. It wasn’t long until you looked nothing less than knightly when on the field. Sky had to praise Four for crafting the armor you wore as it did its job and did it well. Stars above, did you wear it well.
He would never not be in awe of you when you took to the field. You never bothered to hesitate when faced with monsters- not anymore, at least. You were fast, accurate, and deadly. Your silver armor would always be quick to be coated in red and black ichor. Despite the gore that would surround you or cling to you, you never stopped being in the spotlight. Even when the days were cloudy or dark, Sky could always see you shining and shimmering amidst all the chaos. It was only more proof that you really were the light in his life.
And when the battle was done? He’d stay back and let Hyrule heal you before letting someone shortly scold you for your “reckless” behavior. When the crowd would let up, Sky would swoop in and sing his poetic praises until you and he were red in the face. Even if your hands were still armored and bloody from battle, he would still seek out their touch- to feel that burn he was addicted to. There was something about them, fresh from the violence and gore, still taut and heavy from adrenaline, that made him feel like he’d be scorched into cinders. He loved it, adored it, yearned for it, needed it, and couldn’t survive without it.
He would do anything for it.
“Sky… what did you do?”
But he never stopped to realize how you could make him freeze.
It was supposed to be a fun night at the town. Maybe enjoy a few rounds of cards with his brothers or a mug or two of warm ale. For once, he wasn’t glued by your side as you had gone out window shopping for some new clothes with some extra rupees you had. You had taken Wind with you for company and so the adults could be, well, adults. Sky didn’t realize how badly he needed to unwind until he was laughing and joking with his brothers at the table. He was also happy that his bad luck wasn’t his bad luck anymore.
“For fuck’s sake…” Wild grumbled as he nearly threw his rupees at Sky. Sky only laughed at him as Time began to collect the cards and shuffle them.
“If you want, we can play a different game,” Wars offers as he slings an arm over Wild’s shoulders. “How about… Old Maid or Go Fish?”
“How about you choke on your own dick and die?” Wild growls as he takes a swig from his mug. Instead of being reprimanded for his crude words, everyone at the table simply laughs at tonight’s sore loser. To rub salt in the wound, Sky loudly kisses one of the rupees Wild had coughed up. Wild’s glowering stare made it clear that Sky’s days were on the thin line of being numbered.
The picture of an ideal night was shattered when the doors to the inn flew open. Your feet seemed to barely touch the ground as you sprinted up to your room. While Sky stumbled to get out of his seat, the rest of his brothers were quick to follow you. As he hurried to catch up, his heart twisted and shattered as he heard your muffled cries. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t get past Time and Twilight as they guarded your room. Sky could vaguely see Hyrule, Wars, and Wild comforting you. You were frazzled and hiding your face with your hands. His sun was hiding behind clouds of gray and he desperately wanted to know what he could do to make you shine again.
He listened as you blubbered about being harassed by a handful of hooligans on some street corner. How they had nitpicked everything about you from your looks to what you were wearing. At how they had followed you around and called you every name under the sun even as both you and Wind told them to stop. The nail in the coffin- their coffins- was when you said that they had attempted to hit you during their verbal assault.
Sky suddenly found himself thinking clearer than he had in awhile.
It wasn’t hard to track down the vermin wenches. They were loud and obnoxious as they stumbled around town. It was clear they were all intoxicated to hell and back. He himself wanted to laugh, but not because of their drunken state. No, it was laughable as to how easy this was about to be.
“Weeellll heeelllooo there, good looking. Out for some fun tonight?” One of the ladies asked with a loopy smile. The alcohol on her breath combined with her abundant use of perfume made her positively pungent. Sky hid the curl of his nose under pretending to wipe it before giving the trio his best smile.
“Well, it depends on your version of fun,” Sky chuckled as he took her hand. It was thin and weak. Breaking it wouldn’t take much force, but that could come later. Sky needed to corner these heretics before he could punish them.
“Oh, we can give you some great fun, mister~. Far greater than whatever that thing is that you were traveling with,” another chimes in as she wraps her arms around his torso. It takes every ounce of willpower Sky has not to tear them all in two right then and there as he knows she’s referring to you. That means that they had seen you and the group walk into town earlier. That means that they’ve likely been waiting to pounce on you for the past few hours now. Oh, their punishment was surely going to be rough for their wicked planning.
It didn’t take much to herd them into a quieter part of town. He nearly pushed them all into the first abandoned building he found. He lead them further and further into the building until he was sure than not even the loudest scream would be heard by any guard or citizen. Now, all that needed to be done was bring these sheep to the slaughter.
He was quick to take away their chances of escaping as he swung the Master Sword at their legs. He hacked at them until not a single one of the swine before him could stand. His sudden assault was quick to sober them up as they all started to shriek in a horrible symphony of noise. Sky thought of going for the throat to shut them up but that would kill them and he didn’t want to grant them that relief just yet.
His next target was their hands. The very hands that had attempted to harm you earlier. Had they been reaching for you in admiration, he may have been a little bit more gentle as he understood the desire well. But no- they wanted to hurt you. Perfect, divine you. Such blatant heresy made his mouth bitter.
Lastly, he carved into their flesh. His letters were shaky as the sinners thrashed around under his grip and that he wasn’t used to carving with his trusty sword. He wished that he had the foresight to bring his tools with him so that the words would look a little neater. Oh well, as long as their sins were visible, it was enough for him.
“May you plead for forgiveness on your judgment day. Pray to whatever gods and goddesses that you believe in for mercy as I am fresh out,” Sky growled at the bodies at his feet. With precision, Sky plunged the tip of his sword into each of their chests. For a moment, he was tempted to carve out their hearts and present them to you. Would you take his bloody offering? It was something all gods and goddesses were accustomed to, so surely you’d praise Sky for his devotion. You always did light up when he handed you his wood carvings, so perhaps you’d love these carvings all the same?
It was a shame, then, that Sky’s anger didn’t die down once your aggressors were dead. He continued to maim the bodies until they were but mush and sinew surrounding him. Their blood seemed even more putrid than that of the black blooded monsters he and his brothers would slay beside you. He couldn’t be seen near you in his current state- no, not at all. He was a mess and positively filthy. You had dealt with those sinners enough tonight so he wouldn’t dare make you even see the sight of their rotten blood.
If only luck continued to remain on his side, in that matter.
“Sky… What. Did. You. Do,” You repeat as you stare down the man before you. How had you known he was here? How did you sneak away from his brothers? What were you thinking of him, at the moment? Were you disgusted with him? He could understand that, this was easily the dirtiest he’s been all his life. Were you angry with him? That’s okay, if you were- you could take it out on him. And don’t worry about holding back, he could take it. But… were you scared of him? Oh please, please don’t be scared of him. He couldn’t fathom what he would do if you were to view or even think of him in terror. Don’t think of him as a monster, please don’t. He’s your knight! Your hero! Your ever loyal follower!
The emotion in your eyes was something Sky couldn’t place. It wasn’t warm, it wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t sour, it wasn’t anything he had seen before. All he could call it was cold. Cold, cold, cold, cold. The blood in his veins slowed as it seemed to freeze into slush. The sweat and gore on his body was cold as ice and Sky found himself shivering. With a shaking hand, he sheathed the Master Sword and fell to the ground.
And he prayed.
“Please, (Name), please forgive me. Forgive me for my actions and transgressions. Know that what I did tonight was to defend your honor. Know that everything I do is for you and never against you. Please, have mercy on my soul and forgive me of my sins. Only through you can I ever be cleansed. Please… please… I’m sorry, so… so sorry…” Sky sobbed against the stone floor. His hands were clasped before him as he pleaded for your forgiveness. Would you be kind and forgive him? Wash away his sins with your sweet words? Or would you be rough with him? Deny him of salvation and leave him to languish in his mess? Make him plead and pray just like those he fell moments ago.
“Link, look at me.”
Sky snapped to attention as you used his name. You got on your knees before him and acted slowly as if he were a feral animal. You brought a handkerchief to his face as you wiped off all the grime and the tears.
“I’ve never seen you make such a mess before, Sky. This isn’t like you,” You sigh as you continue to wipe down his face. Whatever chill that had been in your eyes and tone was gone now- slowly melting away. Sky was thankful as he was sure he was about to be frozen solid.
“They were sinners. Heretics. Vermin. They made you cry, made you doubt yourself. I hate seeing you cry so I had to deal with what made you upset. If they were taken care of, then… then you’d be happy again, right? Now that they’re gone?” Sky whimpers as he looks at you for even a hair of acceptance. Even a sliver of praise that made it clear he had done right. Just… anything.
“While I would have used different methods, there’s no use in crying over it. I can’t change what’s been done- not this,” You mumble as you pull away. Fear grips Sky again and he grabs onto your retreating hands. In an act of selfishness, he presses them against his face and feels. Feels that tell tale burn he craves as it penetrates his skin. Feels you instinctively flex your fingers and barely dig your nails into his face. Feels your very pulse pump through your veins.
You free a hand from his grasp and dig it into his hair. He whines as you tug at his locks and he finds it in himself crawls towards you. He lays his head against your lap and pants from the heat they give off. Your touch is nothing short of blazing as you run your fingers through his hair and down his neck. He hopes you leave red in your wake as you rub his shoulders. He hopes that finally, finally, he’s done enough to earn your mark.
“My sun… oh my sun. Burn me, please. Scald me, burn me, torch me, melt me… please oh please. Burn your handprints into my skin and brand me with you lips. Let me know the fire of your touch for now and forever more. Melt away my legs so that I may forever kneel at your feet. Turn me to ash in the pyre of your soul so that I may know what it’s like to live,” Sky confesses as he clings to your lap. He smiles as his shoulders seem to be relieved of a burden he was unaware he was carrying. His every want and desire that’s festered in him since he saw you for the deity you are has finally been laid bare.
Soft and featherlight was the kiss you planted on his ear. It twitched and fluttered as your hot breath fanned across it. Sky whimpered as he felt your teeth graze the fragile flesh, as if looking for the best spot to bite. He did his best to muffle his whines and pleas but he couldn’t help his excitement- not when he was so certain he would finally be awarded with your claim on him.
His joy falters when you pull away and leave his ear aching. You help him stand and begin to walk him away from the bloody scene. He apologizes profusely for getting blood on your clothes but you tell him to shut it or else. He listens without further complaint.
Getting him into the bath house without being noticed is far from easy but you were never one to turn away a challenge. Once inside, you strip Sky of his linens and discard them. Where, he doesn’t know. He does know you though and knows that the blood soaked clothing will be well hidden enough to not be found for a few days. Long enough for you all to pack up your things and leave before the stench gets bad enough that they’re discovered. And even longer still until what’s left of the sinners is found. Though, Sky believes scavengers will sooner be attracted to the feast before any guard is.
Sky scrubs himself down and tints the bath water pink while you fetch him new clothes. He scrubs until he’s sure his skin will fall off as he knows you’ll scold him if you see even a single drop of blood left on his person. As quickly as he’s in the water, he’s out and getting dressed. You offer a quick and believable excuse to the innkeeper as you drag the stumbling man up the stairs and to his room. Wars raises a brow when you bring Sky to the room and nearly shoves the knight into the captain’s face.
“Keep any eye on him- please. I’ve had enough trouble tonight,” You groan before promptly leaving and shutting the door behind you. Sky ignores Wars’ stare and gets into his bed.
“Do I want to know?” Wars eventually asks as he pinches the bridge of his nose.
“It doesn’t matter. I’m forgiven and the sinners are dead. Nothing more to tell,” Sky states cryptically. He settles in and doesn’t even care that his damp mop of hair wets the pillow beneath his head. Even with the lackluster response, Wars understands the scenario well enough.
“Never imagined you to be the one to get sloppy…” Wars mumbles as he gets back in his own bed. “I’m sure the Old Man will tan your hide come tomorrow, but that’s, well, for tomorrow. Though… I gotta ask; What did you get out of it?”
“I got to confess my sins and I was forgiven for them. Even if it were not done to me physically, I’ve finally been branded by our deity,” Sky sighs dreamily as he hugs his pillow tightly.
“Finally got close enough to get burned?”
“Yes. And I can’t describe how much I enjoyed the fall.”
It's finally here and I'm at 100 followers! It's still sinking in for me but I wanted to do something to celebrate. Given how loved "Far More Than Just A Mask" is, I decided that a part two to it would be great for my 100 follower fic. Getting it written, like all of my fics, was something of a process so I hope it's at least as good as the first part. Hope you all enjoy!
TW: Yandere themes, blood, descriptions of a violent ritual, gore, cannibalism (accidental, technically), nudity, Fierce goes absolutely mental and no one has a Good Time TM
Learning to live with the Fierce Deity in the flesh was something you expected to be akin to a thorn in your side. He was, in a way, just that. Were he not tasked with something, he was beside you. Even if he wasn’t by your side for whatever reason, that didn’t mean he still wasn’t with you in some capacity.
That strange bond he forced created between the two of you was still present. With every passing day, it seemed to weaken but you doubted it would every go away. In the present, it was hard to send little more than a handful of words over the bond, so the two of you relied on emotion. You never really thought about what it would feel like to be emotionally connected to another person (much less a god) but what you got wasn’t something you expected.
Emotion did not radiate off of him in a way you could sense it. It wasn’t some visible aura around him nor did it replace your own. Rather, it was a feeling in you body. Your being would alight with a hot flash at his anger or your extremities would slowly turn numb and freeze at despair. Your lungs would stutter and your eyes would sting with his sadness and your heart and brain would flood with dopamine at his joy. Not matter how he felt, it was always extreme.
Yet, when you once asked him what your emotions felt like, he described it as trying to sense the presence of a mouse. Your emotions, quite simply, were but a whisper to him. Despite that, he claimed he always did his best to sense and feel them. You had no choice but to experience his emotions so he felt it only fair that he try to do the same.
It had confused you, at first, as to why it was like this. Why he was so extreme and you weren’t in the eyes of the bond. Although he may be “talkative” with you, he’s typically quiet and rather neutral around the rest of the boys. All it took was some few minutes of thinking when the answer quite literally appeared in his name.
Fierce Deity.
He is a god and you are a mortal. Gods, in comparison to mortals, live at an unreachable extreme. It would certainly explain why Fierce always had that air of intensity to him. It would also explain why you felt so minute in comparison to him. It made you worry about what the future may hold. Would he eventually grow tired of how little you were in relation to his divinity? Would his boredom lead to him simply leaving or acting upon his name towards you and the group to amuse himself? Pessimism was easy to reach your mind nowadays and you know (you hoped) that such thoughts could never come true, but your brain refused to shut up.
Large bulky arms secure themselves around you and startle you from your spiral. The smell of rancid iron assaults your nose and the seeping wetness of your clothes makes it clear that you’re going to say goodbye to yet another outfit. A weighty head rests itself upon you and the rumbling hum that sounds though the chest pressed against your back resonates through your nerves. As the arms strengthen their embrace even further, you find yourself being slowly lifted from the ground.
“What ails you, dearest?” Fierce inquires. He audibly huffs and puffs in the scent of your hair but such oddities have long since lost their weird factor on you.
“Nothing too important, Fie- uhm, honey. Just my brain not wanting cease its ramblings. What… about you?” You respond as you look down at the arms around you. He wasn’t drenched in blood but it was certainly splattered on him. Not in huge amounts (at least huge in comparison to the typical gore he seemed to wear), but enough to tell you that something- or someone- was now dead. For the sake of not developing a headache, you hoped it wasn’t the latter.
“I brought us food. Elk,” Fierce stated. Ah, that would explain the strange and distant cry you heard some thirty minutes ago. And, for the next thirty minutes, you’d be avoiding the bloody scene that would now be accompanying camp. The double helix sword Fierce wielded was great against monsters but too rough against prey. As such, he simply resorted to using little more than his hands when it came to ending them. You had seen the end product of this method only once and it was sight that you vowed to never look at again. The bent neck, torn skin, smashed head, and splinters of bone poking through the pelt… ugh, there goes your appetite.
As silence continues to permeate the atmosphere, the embrace around you eventually loosens. Fierce’s footsteps crunch and squish on the forest floor as he moves away from you. He stops once he’s fully in view and you can’t help but stare at his face. It would be wrong to say he was anything less than beautiful. His face- his true face- was so similar yet different to the mask made in his likeness. His tattoos, still red and blue and angular, were more weathered like warpaint. His hair, still silvery white and straight, had turned into billowing locks due to the passage of centuries. And his eyes- oh, those eyes- were still so intense. They didn’t glow white hot with rage and were no longer blank slates. Rather, a ring of steely gray and blue surrounded his pupils. The colors reminded you of both the swinging steel of battle and the common hue of blue that existed in the eyes of most of the boys. A small feature, you wonder, that may have been picked up from Time.
“If you choose to accompany me to go get cleaned up… then I assure you that there will be more to look at then,” Fierce offers with a slight lit in his voice. His lips are ever so slightly turned upward as are his brows. Perhaps not as poetic as Wars’ pick up lines, but still effective enough to get your heart pumping.
“Well, after you got me dirty, I have little choice but to join you,” You sigh and follow behind the man. He lets out little more than a small chuckle, one of triumph, but you don’t let it get to you. Had you declined his invitation, he’d no doubt be left in a cranky mood. And, whenever Fierce was feeling all around unpleasant, it would always lead to most unpleasant things.
As you walked behind the god, you vaguely noted how the forest started to thin out before stopping completely. Stretching out before you was a sizeable lake. It was hours away from Ordon, hence why you never saw it in game or never heard Twilight mention it, but it was a reminder that there was so much more to every Hyrule than a screen could ever show. The surface of the water was still and stained a variety of oranges and pinks with the setting sun. Even after basking in the spring sun for the entire day, the water would undoubtedly still be cold.
A clinking sound catches your attention and you look over at Fierce just in time to see his chestplate fall to the ground. By now, his hands are fiddling with the buckle of his belt and you advert your eyes away. This wasn’t the first time you’ve both seen Fierce naked or bathed with him, but there was still a layer of reserve you had towards him. You had accepted the fact that you were now his lover (not that you were going to be left with any other choice) but there were certain aspects of a romantic relationship that you weren’t ready for yet. Perhaps it was because you were scared of taking such a leap. Or, maybe, your feelings didn’t run deep for the god like his surely did for you. Whatever the case was, constantly adventuring, fighting, and dealing with the Shadow made it hard to try and sort out such complex thoughts and conflicting emotions. For now, you had little choice but to go with the flow.
Once Fierce had waded deep enough into the water to where only the start of his hips and the beginning tufts of his happy trail peaked above the water did you go about getting undressed. The deity was kind enough to keep his eyes trained elsewhere until you were in the water much like him. An involuntary grunt fell from your lips as you waded into the cold waters but the sooner you got washed off, the sooner you’d be out of the lake.
After a quick dip below the surface to fully wet your body, you were whisked into Fierce’s arms. He carefully placed his arms around your midsection as not to touch an private parts of your body. The warmth that radiated from him was welcome in the face of the biting temperatures of the lake. Without his armor or thick clothes to cover up his body, you had full view of picturesque divinity. It wasn’t superhero level of muscle nor veiny, but was certainly a warrior’s build. The expanses of his muscles were only heighted or barely hidden by a suitable layer of fat. The fat only added to his weight to make him more solid and even harder to push around as well as helped soften any blows that may befall him. Unsurprisingly, his body was littered with scars of battles and wars waged so long ago that the history books likely couldn’t recall them. His hands were wide and large as well as covered in callous. You felt envious of the ways he made certain flaws and imperfections look so desirable.
“You ought to work on ‘shutting up’ your brain more often, dear (Name). It’s no wonder you experience so many headaches,” Fierce hummed out as he began to card a hand through your hair. With a few kisses placed to the crown of your head, you were distracted enough from your thoughts yet again to focus on the now. You didn’t bring any soap with you, but you hadn’t been splattered with blood like Fierce was. For now, the water should be enough.
Fierce begins to ladle water across your shoulders before you can even cup your own hands. Once fully wet, the man goes about rubbing your skin both to wash off any blood or grime but to also soothe your muscles. Even with the rough skin that coated his palms and fingers, his touch and motions were gentle. The gesture was nice and a welcome feeling to the stiff knots littered throughout your neck and shoulders, but it was also strange.
Not strange in the fact that it came from your lover, but from a god. It was the mortal, no matter the nature of the relationship, that did acts of service for the divine. Brought them food, made sacrifices in their name, and lived, breathed, and died by their beliefs. They’d heed every order given to them no better than a well trained dog. There were, of course, exceptions to this standard.
And Fierce was quiet the exception.
He acted as if you were the sole reason he existed. He brought you food, gifted you things from trinkets to treasures, and even shouted out your name in battle as if it was waged for you. Even with your hesitance towards him at times, he never once faltered in the way he acted. Any positive sign from you, from a compliment to something like a kiss on the cheek, only seemed to embolden him further. You had to be scarce in affection with Fierce even if it may have seemed harmless at the time.
Gods are dangerous beings, after all. Their sorrow drowns lands and their anger scorches the earth til’ naught but ashes remain. Their envy chokes the life out of whatever it can bind itself around and even their happiness can lead to slaughter. But their love? That’s a whole other beast to deal with.
Whenever Fierce felt as if he hadn’t been given enough affection recently, he sought to gain it by doubling his efforts. Instead of picking the ripest grapes from the vine for you to snack on, he’d uproot the whole plant and drag it back to camp for you. Instead of gifting you a new tunic or bracelet, he’d dump entire wardrobes of clothing and accessories upon you (kindly cleaned of gore, naturally). Instead of handing you a few monster parts he picked up after battle as a little trophy, he’d make let you watch him harvest them. He’d force ask you to tell him which parts to tear away next. From ripping out teeth and twisting off horns to gutting them and pulling out their innards, he did it. Given a monster’s tendency to puff away into nothing more than smoke upon death, the beasts were always forced to stay alive.
Yet, after receiving love and affection, he could be even worse. Smothering to the point you weren’t allowed to do nearly anything without his “help”; walk, eat, change, or bathe. He’d be willing to bite at anything that came near the two of you during his moments of love, leaving you with little choice but to distance yourself from the rest of the group. In the moments where he was nothing short of lovesick, you were left with very few options as to calm him down. Some days you’d have to act indifferent towards him to get him to back up whereas others required you to just submit to the affections like a doll for him to hug and squeeze. If you didn’t manage to subdue him fast enough… bad things happened.
Like right now.
You had been whisked away from your bed in the middle of the night. Despite your pout and complaints, Fierce did little more than hum as he carried you out of the castle. The guards that were littered about the grounds hardly acknowledged the two of you (most certainly out of fear of what Fierce would do to them). The only familiar face you passed by was Impa, but the woman only spared you what you believe to be her attempt at a sympathetic gaze (no doubt Wars had filled her and Zelda in on the relationship between you and the deity).
As Fierce’s long legs carried you through Hyrule castle and out of the city’s protective walls, you could only fathom what awaited you. He was always one to make sure you had a proper amount of sleep each night, so this deviation in routine had your stomach twisting. As he began to venture into the woods, a little tune was hummed under his breath and his fingers idly tapped against your back. A harmless gesture any other day or situation, but it meant he was excited. No doubt to show you something and to explain his scarce presence over the past few days.
“You’ve always shared a lot of your culture with me. Food, celebrations, talk of your society and how it functions, and even what love is like in your world,” Fierce finally broke the silence of the forest (why are the woods quiet? Why can’t you see any fairies fluttering around?). “I thought, perhaps… I could do the same. It’s not much, but I still want you to enjoy a few things I did back when I was in my prime.”
With those partially cryptic words finally spoken, you were set down on your own two feet and spun around. In a small clearing of the forest now sat a little feast. Placed upon a round but sizeable table were multiple plates of decadent food. Some dishes were familiar to you such as a fragrant seafood stew prepped with lobster, crab, prawns, and fish. Strips of glazed and tender gourmet meat rested upon a suitable bowl of rice. There was also a charcuterie and meat board loaded with all sorts of treats. The sight was enough to get your stomach rumbling and you sat down in the smaller chair at the table. With the hot and fresh food before you (no doubt kept that way with the use of a little magic), your worries could wait for a moment.
“This is but a sliver of the food that use to grace the tables I ate at. While this little feast lacks many things, mainly ambrosia and entertainment, I do hope you enjoy it,” Fierce states as he watches you dig into whatever was closest to you. The food tasted just as amazing as it looked and smelled, so Fierce had to have gotten help from someone. Perhaps Wild or the cooks at Hyrule castle? Whoever it was, you were grateful to them.
As you enjoyed some of the gourmet meat and rice bowl, another plate was slid over to you. It appeared to be a standard plate of steak but the meat on the plate wasn’t beef. It looked similar to beef, but it sooner looked like a filet than a steak. Not to mention that the smell may have been meaty and savory, but not beef like. It was also generously covered in a thin, dark sauce and plated with a small pile of what you imagined was the Hyrule equivalent of home fries.
Curious to try the new dish, you moved it closer and brought your fork and knife to it. You did your best to slice against the grain and pulled away with a good bite of the meat. After a quick dip in the sauce it came with, you plopped it into your mouth and began to chew. It was soft and tender and had a similar mouth feel to regular steak, but the taste was far from that simple. It had the meaty heaviness that came with red meat but it’s taste was a bit closer to poultry. The tangy sauce helped cover up the subtle, bitter aftertaste of the food.
“What do you think? It’s the one dish I prepared myself,” Fierce commented as he watched you. He practically seemed to be on the edge of his seat and his eyes bore straight through you. His eagerness towards your commentary was strange given how innocent this little date night had been so far, so you decided to not question it too much as not to ruin the mood.
“It’s an interesting taste. It tastes good and the sauce is a good pair for the meat, but it’ll still take some getting used to,” You replied before taking another bite out of the meat. Since this was the plate Fierce had specially prepared himself, it would be nice of you to finish it.
“I also made a drink. It’s not as close to the mortal made ambrosia as I hoped it would be, but I hope you enjoy it,” Fierce pipes up yet again as he hands you a wine glass full of what looks similar to red wine. It’s darker in color, though, as well as more opaque. When you go to taste it, you also notice that it’s just a bit thicker than normal wine. While there is the taste of grapes and alcohol in it, there’s also a noticeable twang of raspberry and something else you can’t put your finger on. Much like the meat, there was subtle, bitter aftertaste. You offer Fierce a nod of approval and, for the moment, that’s that.
The midnight meal passes by rather peacefully. The forest is still all too quiet for your liking but at least you and Fierce keep each other company. When it eventually becomes too much to take so much as another bite out of any of the food, the deity also sets down his utensils along with you. As you sit and digest your food, Fierce goes about packing up the leftovers and storing them in his own enchanted pouch.
Instead of picking you back up and taking you back to the castle, Fierce beckons you to follow him closer into the forest. You comply, albeit a bit sluggishly due to a full belly and the early stages of fatigue. Wherever he’s taking you next mustn’t be far or else he would’ve picked you up.
The next spot he takes you to is dark and ill lit by moonlight. You can make out what appears to be a… tub? It’s clearly filled with liquid and had all kinds of petals scattered around it and in it. Underneath the earthy and floral scent of the scene, there’s another smell that you turn your nose from. With it being smothered by everything else, though, the most you can describe it as is a stale musk.
Gently, Fierce begins to pull away the pajamas covering your body. He keeps his actions slow and steady so you could make him stop at any time. You don’t as you understand he wasn’t going to do anything bad to you and, before long, your night clothes and underwear are neatly put to the side. Fierce helps you into the tub and let’s your body slowly sink into the liquid. There’s a noticeable thickness to the liquid- like a thinned out syrup. Aside from that and the smell, it was only luke warm. Were there more moonlight or just any light in general, you’d be able to properly see the color of the liquid.
Fierce kneels down by your side and begins to rub the liquid into the parts of your body that aren’t submerged. He says little aside from a few orders to move one way or the other. Whatever elixir it is that you’re bathing in is also added into your hair and generously applied to your face. Your best guess is that this was some sort of soak that Fierce must have done to himself way back when. Whether it was going to be beneficial for you or not would be something you could get figured out later.
“I imagine you’re curious about all of this,” Fierce murmurs out as he continues to “wash” your hair. “The meal, this bath, and what more I may have planned…”
“Well, yes… that’s been in the back of my mind the entire time,” You confirm after a moment of hesitance. That telltale churning in your gut was starting to act up but you did your best to hide it. You weren’t the only one nervous, though, as Fierce also seemed to be getting anxious as well. It buzzed through the bond like a bee’s nest. Nervousness was a rather rare emotion for the deity and it made your blood run cold at whatever he may be planning.
“Remember… how I promised that my love for you is eternal? Well, it is but… you’re not,” Fierce sighs and the bond is flooded with sadness that threatens to make you sob until the sun rises. Thankfully, it doesn’t last for much longer as Fierce seems to focus his train of thought elsewhere.
“Y-Yeah?” You cough out after a bit. Fierce remains still and silent for a few moments despite your stare. Slowly, his eyes meet yours and the intensity that stirs within them could have been enough to kill.
“I think I’ve figured out a solution to that.”
What?
What did he mean by that? Was… was he planning on turning you into a god? Or, at the very least, immortal? There’s little else his comment could be interpreted as. But how would such a thing even be possible? As far as you can recall, you’ve stumbled across nothing in Hyrule or its history that hints at mortals being able to ascend to divinity.
“Fierce, how… is that even… I-”
“You need not stress, dearest. The process has already begun and you’re fairing quite fine so far,” Fierce smiles.
What?!
You nearly leap out of the tub and scramble across the ground. Your wild dreams of escape are shattered as Fierce quickly wrangles you into his hold and attempts to calm you down. He even tries to send calming and relaxing sensations across the bond but it does little to soothe your frantic mind. Not only that, but you managed to get to a point in the forest where there was more moonlight. The pale light illuminated your bare skin and it only showed red. Red, red, red, red, red.
It’s blood. You had been soaking in blood.
By some miracle, you managed to not upheave tonight’s meal. That didn’t stop you from kicking and screaming to get away from Fierce. Unlike times before when he had crossed a line, Fierce showed no sign of backing off. He kept you pinned to the ground and simply took any blow you sent his way head on. It was simply a matter of letting you tire yourself out.
“Shh… it’s okay, you’ll be fine, (Name),” Fierce hushed as he pressed the side of your head against his chest. His heart beat was slow and steady like a bass drum. It contrasted the never ceasing allegro of your own heart and you worried that, at this rate, you’d end up fainting.
After quickly adjusting his embrace around you, Fierce lifts you up and carries your body to the next destination of this “date night”. Your kicks had lost their wind and had become little more than wiping your foot against him. You try to look at anything but the red ick still clinging to you or Fierce. Vaguely, standing just above the tree line and nearing the horizon lines, were the tallest towers on Hyrule Castle. It was so far away that you couldn’t really see the flags mounted on their peaks flapping in the breeze nor would anyone there be capable of hearing the loudest scream you could make (would anyone even come to your rescue if they heard you? Who in their right minds would think to try and fight against a god?)
Something cold and hard presses against your back. Your view shifts as Fierce lays you down on stone and quickly goes about securing your arms and legs. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s laid you flat on an altar. What ritual he had planned was for him to know and for you to cruelly find out.
“I’ve never wanted to hurt you before and I still don’t. I will never feel the urge to harm you but… I have to do this. If I don’t, then you’ll become victim to your mortality and I’ll be left alone. I can’t exist without you anymore, (Name)... I can’t,” Fierce whines and that sadness from earlier crashes over you again. Your thoughts turn to the darkest possibilities given your current state, but things are made abundantly clear when a hidden dagger is pulled from beneath the god’s linens.
You’ve never seen a dagger that looked so ritualistic before. It’s blade was carved and sharpened from the tooth of a beast and runes or words of a language you couldn’t read were etched into the blade. Its handle was made from stained and wrapped leather that had a few brilliant feathers bound in it. For the first time since properly meeting him, you could see Fierce’s hand shake as he poised the blade.
“I think… you’re ready. You’ve been strengthened enough to take my blood tonight. You’ve drank, ate, and bathed in my essence. Now, it is time for it to enter your veins- raw and unfiltered,” Fierce muttered. With care and precision, the blade was brought to your skin. Enough pressure was applied so that it began to cut through the layers of your skin. He stopped just shy of your sternum and began to pull the blade down the length of your torso. It was a slow and agonizing pain you couldn’t describe so you only screamed. You screamed and screamed and screamed. You fought against the bindings that held you but it was to no avail.
The blade finally stopped just past your pectorals before pulling away. Fierce laid the blade against his hand and sliced in deep. A small sputter of blood spattered out as a result and it feels like fire when it makes contact to your open wound. The pain is only amplified tenfold when Fierce presses his cut palm down on the slash of your chest. Your voice raises to an octave you didn’t know was possible as what feels akin to liquid fire begins to spread through your chest. This is only worsened by the icy sting of sadness and despair as Fierce struggles to keep a lid on his own emotions. You can see his lips moving and know he’s mumbling something but you can’t tell if it’s some kind of mantra to complete the ritual or a shoddy attempt at keeping himself calm.
As his blood spreads out further and further, you find that the world is becoming more and more incoherent. Black spots smudge your vision and static feels your ears. Fierce’s face, contorted into so much pain and anguish, is the last thing you see before passing out.
Your mind feels as though it’s drifting around on the inky waters of unconsciousness. Even though this feeling is unknown to you and you don’t know what awaits you when- if you wake up, you feel peaceful. There is no pain to feel and no sights to disturb you. All you sense is your body drifting along and the occasional noise. The noise is that of someone speaking or shouting or crying- you can’t tell. It’s so distant and sounds as if it’s underwater. It’s like a siren call that plays on your curiosity and empathy to open your eyes. To wake up and investigate or comfort whoever it is that’s calling for you.
“...p… wa… up…”
Perhaps you weren’t unconscious. Maybe you were dead? It’s possible given the… trauma? That you just went through? (What happened? The pain the pain the pain the pain the pain the pain It’s all gotten so blurry? Golden Three preserve me save me)
“Ple…. wake… please, (Na… up…”
Were you now drifting down the River Styx? Maybe, maybe not. It had always been portrayed as hellish and depressing, but you felt so peaceful. Maybe Hyrule just had a nicer one that home did.
“Golden Three, please… pray that they… return them to… give me back my…”
Hmm… the waters were beginning to feel a little choppy. Were you finally arriving at your destination? Whatever that meant…
“(Name), please! COME BACK TO ME!”
Your eyes snapped open as breath returned to your lungs. You were stuck staring straight up at the inky abyss above you. Somehow, the night sky was now bespeckled with glittering stars and you could better make out the twisting and mixing nebulas of color.
Your head lolled to the side and you saw that Fierce had devolved into the dictionary definition of a mess. Tears streamed down his cheeks and smears of red were all over him. His hair was bunched up and knotted- no doubt from him pulling and tearing at his own hair. Heavy and harsh breaths racked his frame as he was nearly hunched over your body. His stillness was enough to convince you he had turned to stone until his entire body seemed to go lax. He toppled over and landed across your bare skin but neither you nor he cared much about that at the moment.
“You came back… you came back…” He gargled out. His voice, once deep and smooth, was now crackly. He buried his face against your body to hide his expressions from you as he clung to you like a child to their blankie.
“What… happened?” You finally croaked out as you took in your surroundings. Everything was so… sharp. In focus. You could make out the the individual veins on the leaves of nearby trees. You could see dew beginning to form on grass a distance away from where you were laying. Fluttering high above the trees, you could also see the flying and swooping forms of bats. Its like you were looking at everything through the lens of a telescope.
A metallic rattle then click alerts you to the shackles (when did those get there?) on your wrists. Fierce had managed to get up and was working on getting you freed from them. Once unbound, he wasted no time in scooping you up and hurrying through the forest. You gripped onto him as tightly as you could before you felt him come to an abrupt stop. Icy cold water was splashed over your body and Fierce used his shirt to wipe you off. The shirt was quickly stained red and you hadn’t realized you were positively coated in dried blood.
As your skin was cleared of the red ichor, you realized that your chest looked rather weird. The skin was scarred but the scar itself was strange. It was a thin but long and straight line down your chest. It wasn’t your skin’s natural color, but silver like it was made of metal. Feeling it confirmed that it was still your skin and nothing else.
You turn your head upwards to ask Fierce a question but not even a word gets the chance to fall from your lips as Fierce kisses you desperately. Romance and love aren’t the present emotions to be felt in the kiss- it’s despair and relief all wrapped up in an overwhelming amount of guilt. The kiss lasts long enough that you eventually have to claw at Fierce’s chest to push him away. Sweet air flies back into your lungs and you’re left huffing and puffing yet again.
“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry,” Fierce whispers as he hangs his head low. You knew he was apologizing for more than just the rather crude kiss, but your brain was in a fog. You still couldn’t place what had happened for him to be so distraught.
“I remember… eating? Yeah, we were eating in the forest and then you took me somewhere. I was soaking in… in something but after that… everything’s a blur…” You mumbled out and massaged a sudden ache in your temples. Trying to remember what happened, even if it was only a small detail, made your head pound.
“I…” Fierce starts to speak but stops himself. Amongst the whirlpool of emotions in his eyes and bubbling behind the currently closed doors of the bond, you could see that Fierce was thinking. He was thinking about how to phrase his next words carefully. It was odd behavior coming from him given that he preferred to be bluntly honest. “It… doesn’t matter anymore. Things spiraled out of control for a moment but… but everything is okay now. I promise.”
It didn’t exactly feel like a lie (It is it is it is run run run run no longer trust him, don’t love him, stop listening to him, stop) but it wasn’t the truth. Whatever happened had scared Fierce- a man you once thought incapable of feeling fear. Because of that reason alone, you took his word.
“Let’s get back to the castle before the boys or the princess start to wake up,” You state as you try to take control of the situation. It works as Fierce nods and stands up. He lets you stand on your own two feet while he runs off to go get something. After a minute, he returns with your night clothes in hand. He doesn’t speak up or do anything as you get dressed. Once it’s time to start heading back, he doesn’t pick you up but rather walks alongside you, hand in hand.
The small yet noticeable deviations in Fierce’s habits made it clear he was still in some state of shock. You didn’t know what to do to snap him out of it or if you should just let it run its course. You decide on simply intertwining your fingers with his and giving his hand a gentle squeeze to let him know that you’re here and you’re okay (no no no no no no no don’t do that, don’t encourage him, it makes things worse, so so so so much worse).
“(Na… (Name)?” Fierce whispers out. His tone makes him sound like a distraught child wanting to call out to their parent or older sibling. It’s fear and hurt ready to break past the dam that’s barely holding it in.
“Yes, honey?” You hum and give him a small smile.
“You’re… here, right?” Fierce asks. The snarky part of you wants to scoff at the question but you understand that now’s not the time for that.
“Yes. I’m right here,” You confirm and squeeze his hand again.
“You… won’t… ever leave me, will you? I don’t want to be alone again,” Fierce mumbles. Your heart clenches (no, don’t, don’t feel sympathy for the monster) as it’s clear Fierce is thinking back to the time he was trapped in the mask. No doubt being left along for decades, if not centuries, between wielders left him with a fear of abandonment. God of war he may be, it didn’t mean he wasn’t (a monster, a torturer, a villain) without feeling.
“I won’t leave you. I won’t leave you or the boys. You’ve all been through so much and deserve some kindness after all of the cruelty,” You claim, your voice stern and firm much like the statement itself.
“You… love me? You love me, right?” Fierce finally asks the question that had been brewing in his chest. His eyes, ever the window to his soul, showed all. The searching, the yearning, the despair, the anguish, the fear, the worry, the sadness, the hopefulness, the happiness, and the love (the insanity, the madness, the darkness).
“Fierce, I… yes… yes, I do love you,” You admit. It was true (no it wasn’t). Perhaps it was because he never gave up on you despite how conflicted you felt. He waited and was there for you every step of the way without even having to ask. It may have been intense, it may have a bumpy ride, but you were here now. Here with your hand in his and with a clear mind (it’s all so warped and foggy, he won’t let me think straight).
“Will you love me for eternity?” Fierce inquires. His tone is a bit lighter now, as are his eyes. It’s as if the increasing weight of the world was finally lifted off his shoulders. He was still patiently waiting for your answer.
“Hmm…”
Don’t say it…
“Eternity is a long time, honey…”
Eternity is forever, I’ll be trapped with him forever…
I'd like to thank @cloudninetonine for giving me the confidence to come out of the shadows and start posting the fics I write. I haven't really posted anything before, so I'm still figuring out how to use the Tumblr posting format. I'd also like to shout out @yanderelinkeduniverse @neverchecking @gliphyartfan @luimagines @yourlocaltreesimp and @wayfayrr as I was also inspired by their writings and content in general. To whoever stumbles across my fic and enjoys it, please go give these amazing people some love! With that being said, I'd also like to express my gratitude towards @linkeduniverse for their amazing work as their comics are what this fic is based off of. I hope everyone enjoys!
TW: Yandere themes, blood, possession, creeps be creepy
Your entrance into this journey filled with world hopping and a band of men all dubbed strange and woefully bad nicknames was… interesting. Thankfully enough, it wasn’t a truck send off level of isekai but it wasn’t the go to sleep and then wake up somewhere else type either. No, it was deciding to venture out at night for a rather dumb reason, immediately get lost, stumble across a strange portal, proceed to be chased into said portal by a pure black shadow with red eyes, and then stumble around in a forest you very much didn’t recognize. And then, of course, you stumbled across them.
They had dubbed their group The Chain since they were all Link (based on the expressions made when you were informed of this, it was clear who did and didn’t like the idea). After the initial shock based, you were suddenly bombarded with questions about… everything, really. The sheer amount of attention, combined with knowing a lot more than you should (in their eyes but they didn’t need to know that to the full extent), caused you to freeze. Well, internally freeze. As cooly as you could, you tried to answer the many questions thrown your way as truthfully as you deemed necessary.
“What’s your Hyrule like?”
“I don’t have one.”
“You don’t have one? What does that mean? Are you before Hyrule exists or did your Link… fail?”
“I just don’t have one. It… never existed. A lot of what exists for you doesn’t for me- not outside of fairy tales, that is. Magic, fairies, multiple civilizations of different species, and more.”
“Why are your ears clipped? Is it a sort of fashion statement or a punishment?”
“Neither. I’m not Hylian, I’m human. Humans are similar to Hylians but we don’t have pointed ears and are usually a little taller than the average Hylian.”
“Why are your clothes so… weird…”
“They’re not weird to me. You guys certainly are, though.”
And the questions continued. After days of asking questions, which quickly broke past barriers and dug deeper than you were comfortable with, The Chain relented a little. It was clear as day that they didn’t trust you, not a bit, but they still “added” you to their little entourage. Dark Link, or Dink as they called him, had still pushed you through that portal like it did for the rest of them. Meaning, somehow, that you were fated to be a part of the Chain even though you were very far from being a Link. In truth, you knew probably half of them believed you might be colluding with the entity and were simply keeping tabs on you. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, as they say.
Thankfully, you weren’t a complete dead weight. You didn’t mind doing chores since you surely couldn’t battle. Despite some of your “exotic” looks (largely your ears, they’re still getting over that), merchants and townsfolk seemed to open up a bit easier to you. Plus, a lot of creatures from the mundane to mystical quite liked you for whatever reason. Were you not in the Champion’s Hyrule, that may not have stuck out as much as it did. On top of that, you knew first-aid better than most of them did. You were no genius in medicine, but you knew enough about the human body (thank you Forensic Files). You also had the “remedies” your Nana often chose over medicine- a lot less helpful in your world, but far more useful in nearly any Hyrule given the more mystical nature of, well, everything.
It took nearly two weeks for the mock friendliness to turn genuine and nearly a month and a half for everyone (including Legend, though he’ll deny it even if he were six feet under) to have a bit of trust in you. It wasn’t like the bonds they had with each other nor the ones you had with your friends back home, but it was something and that something showed. That fact certainly helped you sleep a bit easier during the night.
So now, here you sit around a campfire with the Chain after yet another day of traveling. Despite sitting in a circle, everyone was still a little grouped up and remained chatting in that group. Hyrule, Wild, and Wind were all conversing with each other in semi-hushed tones which made you believe some level of tomfoolery was sure to happen in the coming days. Sky, Four, and Wars were simply chatting about random things. Legend and Twilight were off on patrolling duty at the moment which was a bit of a balm for you given just how… prickly the Vet was in regards towards you at times (you knew it was mostly show, but that didn’t stop it from being aggravating). All of this left Time and you sitting beside each other in silence as one surveyed the camp and its occupants with a well-trained eye and the other lightly zoned out.
Although semi-zoned out, you weren’t entirely oblivious to the world. Your eyes drifted around and loosely observed the scenery although it was regarded as little more than static to your brain. By chance, your eyes drifted downwards and caught eye of a trinket that often sat on the hip of Time- a mask. Not just any mask, though. You hadn’t played Majora’s Mask before but you saw snippets of it and knew what the Fierce Deity mask was. You noticed from day one that Time- rather foreign in your eyes given the design you were used to- partly had the mask’s markings on his face. You had many guesses as to why that was, but you didn’t ask any.
“No- you can’t try it on,” Time speaks up as he quickly notices your stare at the mask. It jolts you a little as you didn’t realize just how long you had been staring at the aforementioned trinket.
“Oh? I wasn’t going to ask to but… well, now I’m curious as to why you don’t want me to. Is it special to you? I’ve never seen anyone else touch it before,” you ask as you stare at the mask in partly feigned curiosity, avoiding Time’s stare. Faking ignorance had grown to be second nature by now.
“Because everyone else knows that it’s good to stay away from it lest you risk tragedy. It’s a magical mask but the power it holds is… potent. Rather, who it holds,” Time cryptically answers with a small grin. It brings a little grin to your face as well that the mask wasn’t too sore a subject for the Old Man, but it was best to tread the waters lightly.
“Who it holds? There’s… a person in there?” You ask.
“Not just a person- a god. It’s called the Fierce Deity Mask as it holds a god of war within it. Put on the mask, and you become something of a vessel for him to use. Naturally, doing so is dangerous- extremely so- so don’t expect to be seeing it in use any time soon,” Time answers with a lit of strictness at the end.
“Can I… at least touch it? Or hold it?” You push, curious about many things in relation to the mask. What did a magical mask feel like in your hands? Could you feel the power of Fierce Deity wanting to be released? Could you maybe even hear him? Would your heart begin to pump loudly, as if trying to sync with a war drum? Time can practically hear your unasked questions, it seems, as he detaches the mask from his belt and hands it to you.
It’s weighty in your hands. Not heavy, but weighty. Its texture is smooth and makes it feel a little bit more like fine pottery than wood. Despite that, you knew you wouldn’t be able to break it by accidentally or purposefully dropping it (could it ever be broken? What would happen if it was?). Despite the chill in the air, the mask was warm. Something that could easily be attributed to being nearly sandwiched between your’s and Time’s body, but you felt like that wasn’t the case. Aside from that, the mask was almost… underwhelming.
“What? Expecting something grand to happen?” Time lets out a short and breathy chuckle at the puzzled expression that must be on your face at the moment.
“Yeah… I guess so,” You mumble, still holding the mask and looking at it in the eyes- or rather eye sockets. Randomly, you hold the mask up and away from you as if it were someone face to face with you.
“Hello, Fierce Deity, I’m (Name). A… pleasure to meet you? At least, somewhat…”
A beat of silence. And then another. And then another. And th-
“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA! D-Did you seriously just introduce yourself to a mask?!”
Your face burned crimson at Wind’s howling laughter and remark. Many others shared his laughter, including Time himself. Naturally, you looked straight down at your lap and didn’t even resist having Time take the mask back. So caught up in your embarrassing action, you and everyone missed the slight vibration the mask gave off. The second Time put the mask back on his hip was the moment you decided you’d turn in for the night.
Of course, your luck was little and fickle so some of the boys decided to poke at you further come the next day. While you settled beside a stream to wash clothes, it didn’t take long before Hyrule hopped over with a little grin as he propped up the Fierce Deity mask beside you. He made a little comment about how you appeared lonely before practically running off. Unsure of whether to snap at Hyrule or almost pity the god within the mask, you simply chose to go about your chores. You had a gut feeling that a few of the Links were likely lingering close by, so you did your best to stay tight lipped beside the mask. Which was hard since chore time (especially when it allocated some space between you and the boys) was also welcomed alone time. More often than not did you talk to yourself. Safe to say that having such time and space intruded upon left you a little… pent up for the rest of the day.
When the next laundry day came by, the same stunt was pulled (by Wild this time) but you couldn’t keep your silence. Camp was located a little further from the stream than it was at the previous site, so you felt a little more secure.
“I’m sorry,” you mumbled out as you began to wash the pile of clothes beside you. By now, you’ve long grown used to the awful smell of them and you were thankful that, despite having a sculpted nose, the mask didn’t have nostrils. After a few moments of silence, you continued. “I, uhm… I’m sorry for the way that they’re treating you. Perhaps seeing the way I interacted with you that night caused them to grow a little too comfortable around you. I just ask that you forgive or at least tolerate the behavior- it’s an outlet for a handful of them. I know you’ve been with Time for awhile, so I know that you know full well the stress and trauma these boys have. It may seem like little to you given your rank as a deity, but I’m sure you’ve grown to understand mortals a bit better after hanging off the hip of one for years.”
After that, it felt like a dam had broken. Anytime you were off doing your chores, the Fierce Deity mask was there beside you. To the Chain it was a recurring joke that turned into a slight routine (something Legend hated since having something so powerful be near you was always something he despised). To you, it was finally a chance to talk- to vent without being judged. Well, you’re sure that Fierce Deity was judging you but you couldn’t hear him. Honestly, there were parts of your life that you likely sooner shared with the mask than you did with anyone else. It’s not like he can spill your secrets, anyway.
You wondered what he must have thought of you. An annoyance? A break? An interesting or perhaps strange mortal? Or did he just not care at all? Was he curious about your ramblings that described your passions, your home, your world or was it merely buzzing in his ears? You didn’t know and likely never would. At least, so you thought.
And it all started with a simple, and seemingly logical, decision from Time.
“I’m sorry- what? You’re wanting the Outsider to have the mask with them? Time, what the fuck?! We’re your sword brothers and we’ve hardly been allowed to touch the damn thing but now it gets to hang off of that witch’s hip?! What happens if we need to use it? Or what happens if they use it? We’re all screwed!” Legend practically screams as Time tells the Chain of his decision. You want to stand tall and face Legend, but you knew that his comment wasn’t entirely based off of his prickly personality (despite what may come out of his mouth). No, all of the boys were likely fretting over you having the mask given what it did to its wearer. If it could take down even a Hero of Courage, then what could it do to you?
“Enough!” Time snorted as he stared down the pink haired man. “The mask is not some secret weapon, let alone a toy (Wild, Wind, and Hyrule flinch), to be used at your leisure. That’s something this ‘outsider’ realizes better than seemingly all of you. As such, I’m entrusting it into their care to make sure it’s not abused. It is only for the worst case scenarios, do I make myself clear?”
“But the past few monster hordes have gotten stronger! I understand that (Name) acts as a field medic to the best of their ability but they stay away from battle when they can. It’ll be inconvenient and risky to let it be away from us for multiple reasons. What if a battle goes south fast and we can’t get to it in time? What if something tries to steal it from them? What if they have no choice but to use it and potentially lets Fierce Deity go on a rampage? I can guarantee that it’d hurt them,” Wars argues with a much more put together and logical rebuttal than Legend. That still doesn’t save you from the ever present glare the Vet has aimed at you and the mask.
“I’ve thought of all of this but I still believe this for the best. Besides, the hordes feel stronger because we’ve been dealing with smaller and weaker hordes for over a month now. Dink has been trying to soften us up a little and I can see that it’s worked based on our combined performance in the last battle,” Time huffs and deepens his scowl. He gives the Chain a thorough stare down before speaking again. “Anyone else want to pipe up?”
The only thing that spoke for about the next ten seconds was the breeze. After that short but tense “talk” was over with, the Chain was back on the move. Safe to say you were distracted as you and the boys traveled, though not by the gazes you felt on your person and on the mask. Rather… it was due to the mask itself. During the argument, it had been on your waist the entire time. With everyone focusing on whoever was taking their turn arguing with Time, they were all blind to the way the mask was reacting. Due to your close proximity to the mask for some time now, you knew full well that Fierce Deity could hear and see what happened around him from his wooden prison. He couldn’t speak, but he could make the mask buzz. He did it seldom, but seldom was not the word you would use for moments ago. Given how a lot of the boys still regarded him as an object, it must have pissed him off. Or, maybe, he was also a little pissed at how his new carrier was being treated. It was likely the former but you at least hope you’ve rubbed off on Fierce just a little bit by now.
…
‘On… put the mask on…’
Okay, maybe you’ve rubbed off on him a little… too much.
The freaky occurrences began to happen nearly a week after you were appointed as Fierce Deity’s new carrier. You didn’t notice the whispers at first as they were quiet and usually spoken while the boys were speaking. You also didn’t notice how the mask would move just a little bit whenever you set it down. Naturally, you couldn’t ignore it for forever- not as the mask only grew more active in regards to your ignorance.
The calls from the mask were getting closer by the day. It’s whisper- his whisper, grew louder for every night that passed. His voice was low and rumbling like a distant thunder, like an approaching storm. You’d put the mask on the other side of your tent (much to the displeasure of whoever you were sharing the tent with at the time) but it’d still end up only a foot or two away from you when morning came. Your once rather passive regard for the mask and the deity trapped within it was becoming… strained as the days went by. The boys noticed it, to the point you wondered if Time planned to take back the mask, but they (aside from a seething Legend) never commented on it. It should have come to the surprise of no one that the rising tension would eventually snap.
“You did pretty good out there today, Wind. I didn’t expect you to take out those three lizafols so quickly,” Wild complimented the young lad as he joined the group around the campfire.
“Ha, naturally! With my rate of improvement, I may even surpass the Old Man one day!” Wind puffed up his chest and grinned. The sight of his youthful happiness and high esteem caused the other men to either chuckle or feel a touch of nostalgia.
“Careful- we’ve seen what praise like that does to one of us,” Legend tsks as he side eyes Wars. The knight rolls his eyes but doesn’t clap back for once.
“It’s well deserved praise, Legend. Wind is truly improving- there’s no harm in letting him know,” Hyrule claims. The man opens his mouth to add more but is stopped when Twilight springs up from his spot and stands stiff as a board. The aura surrounding the rancher is tense as he eyes the tent farthest from the campfire.
“Uh, Twilight? What’s wr-”
“(Name)?” Twilight called out as he took a few steps towards the tent you were currently sleeping in. Due to his heightened senses, he could hear muffled grunts and whines of pain. Could you be having a nightmare? No, if it was a nightmare why did he feel so… worried? Scared, even? Based on the tense men around the campfire, they were starting to feel that as well.
Twilight walks, almost stalks, towards the tent. The wolf within was howling and snarling in the back of his mind, that something bad was happening. An almost shaky hand grabbed the fabric of the tent and… he stalled. Why? Why was he stalling? Why did it feel like he shouldn’t open the tent when he knew that he should? That he has to? That his friend- their friend- was in trouble? Why-
“Leave, Hero of Twilight. This is a private moment and you are not welcome.”
Twilight nearly flung the tent into the field.
A thrashing body was pulled from the tent and pinned down to the ground. Wild reached for the mask stuck to your face and tried to pry it away from you but it wouldn’t budge. While you weren’t transforming into the Fierce Deity, that didn’t mean you weren't under his influence at the moment. His voice had come out of your mouth, after all.
“Dammit! (Name)!” Time bellowed, kneeling beside the scene with an equal mix of anger and worry. Worry because he knows- Hylia does he know what that mask can do and angry at himself. He should have taken the mask back the second it started to show signs of attachment. He should have never let you have it- never let you even touch it.
Suddenly, you went limp. Grunts stopped on the tip of your tongue as you let out a drawn out breath. As if it wasn’t just stuck to your face like glue, Wild yanked off the mask with ease. Aside from some redness and even blood on the outline of your face due to the struggle, your face was largely unharmed. In fact, it looked eerily… peaceful.
Your arms slowly closed in and you hugged yourself. In gentle motions that appeared strange to the Chain- as if it wasn’t really you moving your appendages- you rubbed your arms. Your face settles into a more so neutral expression as you eyes flutter open for just a moment to reveal almost entirely white eyes.
“Shhh… you’re alright now, I told you that it would only hurt for a moment. Shhh…,” Fierce Deity gently spoke out of your mouth before your eyes returned to normal. With a tiny groan, your head lolled to the side as you blacked out.
Safe to say that it was absolute chaos when you woke back up.
Strained voices were arguing somewhere nearby and it didn’t help soothe your forming headache. With wobbly arms, you tried to push yourself up but failed as strength seemingly refused to return to you.
“(Name)? Thank the goddesses you’re awake!” Four pipped up in what sounded like absolute relief. Such relief was short lived as you watched Four get up and run off. You tried to sit up again in your sleeping bag but the weakness in your body persisted. Why? Why were you so weak? You went to bed early, dammit!
A baritone chuckle rings in your ears.
“I apologize for that, dear one. Your lack of strength is due to my actions last night.”
The voice was a shock to your system. You frantically looked around for its origin but couldn’t find it. Your confused actions caused the voice to nearly coo.
“Be not afraid, dear one. I am here, with you. That is why you can hear me.”
Light flooded the tent as what seemed to be a multitude of Links trying to force their way in. Time, thanks to his bulk and armor, was the one who managed to force himself to your side. His grip on your face was almost harsh as he looked over your face with a scrutinizing eye. His hardened scowl made your heart drop into your stomach. Buried fears of the Chain turning on you started to surface as nearly everyone gave you heated glares.
“What did he do? What did Fierce Deity do?” Time questioned as he still held your face, not letting go.
Fierce Deity- of course, how could you forget? Your panic that night as you rolled over and into an awaiting mask. The fear as he grabbed onto your mind despite his gentle tone.
“The mask… I… I rolled over and then it was on my face,” You answer meekly, unsure of what words to use because Time looked like he was about to blow a fuse. Anxious and a little frightened by the Old Man, you rambled on. “I swear that I put it on the other side of the tent! I promise I would never put on the mask like that! I-I… I… I’m going to ask you to unhand their face, Hero of Time. Scaring them will not grant you answers.”
Time let go of your face like it would burn him. A few of the boys behind him instinctively reached for their swords but paused. Even with the blank, white eyes staring back at them, this was still their friend’s face.
“What have you done? Why have you possessed (Name)? How?!” Wars interrogated Fierce Deity as he stared back at him.
“I have not truly possessed them. I merely created a bridge between our minds. It will not let me control them like this for much longer. I can only do so because it is still… fresh,” Fierce Deity explains, a ghost of a smile present in his voice.
“Really now? I don’t believe that for a second! Why else would you create this mental bridge if not to have them as a vessel?” Wild piped up as he tried to get close to his friend’s body. He failed to do so as Time practically shielded you from him.
“Personal reasons. I needn’t explain them to you, but I will assure you that I will not harm them. No, I would never force these innocent hands to slaughter. Not unless they were without choice,” Fierce Deity claims. As he speaks, he rubs your hands together as if enthralled with how gentle they felt compared to the calloused and aching hands he was used to guiding.
“And what, in your mind, is ‘without choice’?” Time pressed, grabbing your hands with a scowl.
“Conflict follows this group like a pack of starving wolves. There have been many times where death nearly sunk its teeth into their neck. Times I wish they would have donned the mask so that I could protect them and get them to safety. Unfortunately, they still believed in the half-truths you all told them were the full truth,” Fierce Deity rumbles as he stares down at Times grip with a less than pleased expression.
“I am not comfortable with what you’ve done to our friend. I don’t know if any of us may grow used to or comfortable with this, but… we also have no way to remove you from them. That does not mean we will not look or try. Don’t grow comfortable with this… this bond. It. Will. Not. Last,” Time threatens as he doesn’t bother to hide his disgust or displeasure. With a motion, he orders everyone else to leave. The Chain leaves the tent one by one, but not before speaking their mind. Once alone together again, Fierce Deity lets his hold slip. One or more of the heroes would come back, with more questions, and they would do so soon. So he would enjoy this little break while he had it.
“They are gone for now, dear one. No doubt they will return shortly, so let us enjoy this piece of quiet while we can.”
You lay on your side, feeling dizzy from Fierce Deity suddenly grabbing the reigns of your mind. Although he backed off once the Chain left the tent, his presence within was close. It was almost as if he was laying behind you, wanting to wrap his arms around you. Wanting to hold you close and only stopped by his lack of physical form.
“I am glad you do not have a heightened sense of smell. Their worry, rage, and envy- oh their envy- would have burned your nose. Ah, but… let us dwell on that no longer.”
Your hand was puppeteered to reach down to your side. Your were made to unclasp the mask from your belt and bring it up close to your face. Rather than putting it on, Fierce Deity touched his “face” against yours. Forehead to forehead, nose to nose, and almost mouth to mouth.
“Mmm… so soft, as always. If I had need for sleep as you do, then I would not rest unless this is the sight that’s before me. And even then, I may be too enchanted to close my eyes.”
Phantom hands rubbed at your arms, your back, and then your cheek. They weren’t real, but with Fierce’s control of your imagination, they were. And you prayed that is was his influence, and not your own heart, that found it comforting and warm. You wanted to push back and take control but, due to the “fresh” nature of your bond, you would likely be at the mercy of the god for days.
“Rest, dear one. Rest your mind and body, you must still recover from our bonding last night.”
Those phantom hands circled around you and you feel as though you’re caged in an embrace.
“I will deal with the heroes should they come to disturb you. Know that I will not let them part us- not unless they’re looking to stir my rage.”
A kiss. It wasn’t real- it wasn’t, but the rough lips upon your forehead tempted your heart to will that they were.
“And I promise that one day, we will not have to rely on this spiritual bond. No, I will make up for these ethereal affections tenfold when I find out how to return to the material plane. No matter how long it takes. Not that we must worry about that, after all. Our time together… will be eternal.”
---
The next few days were perhaps the most tense you’ve ever experienced. Fierce Deity was a constant presence in your head, even as the bond between the two of you settled. He wasn’t chatty, but just rather curious and inquisitive. When he wasn’t asking questions about you, he was observing. He seemed to derive an almost twisted form of happiness whenever he saw how on edge everyone was around you now . He assured it was out of jealousy of him, not fear or hatred towards you. Were it actually out of new found ill-will… no, you weren’t going to imagine what the god would have in store for them.
True to his word, his hold over your mind lessened the more the bond settled in. No longer would you feel phantom hands wrapping around your own or resting on your shoulder. No longer would it feel like a large body was laying behind your own every night you fell asleep. No longer would it be his voice on your tongue to shoo away the boys should they do wrong in the war god’s eyes. No longer did it feel like he was breathing down your neck every waking moment.
In an attempt to hinder the god’s mysterious motives, you were quickly relieved of the mask he was bound to. It was once again on Time’s hip- now covered and tied up in cloth. Honestly, you were surprised it wasn’t buried into the storage of Wild’s Sheika Slate to create even more distance. Even with what happened, it seemed that Time didn’t have it in him to simply discard the mask. Perhaps he hoped to keep the deity in check, like he had done before you accidentally stirred the entity into action.
And it would seem that that is exactly what Fierce planned on him doing.
It was supposed to be a quiet night. The area was secure, dinner was cooking in the pot, and everyone but Time was idling around the fire. Wind chatted with you about every and anything that came to mind which pushed your focus onto the young man. With your distance from the mask and not thinking about Fierce, you felt nothing from the bond. You felt calm for the first time in awhile and everyone seemed to feel the same.
“Any idea when the Old Man is gonna be back?” Wars asks aloud, looking for nearly anyone to answer him.
“Soon. Dinner’s almost done and he’s not one to miss it. At least when I’m cooking,” Wild hums. It was a simple answer to a simple question, so no one said anything else. Still, it unnerved you. Time sought to set an example, so potentially being late to dinner was unlike him. Curious, you probed on the bond connecting you to Fierce. Even if he’d huff at you checking up on another man before him, you knew you’d get an answer. You always got an answer.
…
“I’ll look for him,” You state as you get up and walk off in the direction of where you last saw Time. Your sudden decision startled the boys and your nervous, almost haunted, expression did nothing to soothe them.
“Then I’m going with you. I don’t want you to getting close to him,” Twilight announces as he catches up to you. His tone left you with no room for an argument but you weren’t going to.
Not when Fierce was being eerily quiet.
You and Twilight took careful steps through the forest as he tried to retrace Time’s path. You both would stop and listen to the ambient sounds of the forest whenever something sounded off. The constant stopping and going only ramped up your nerves further as it kept punctuating Fierce’s refusal to communicate.
“I’m sure we’ll get an explanation when we find him. If you ask me, he might just be getting some alone time. He always does seem to have a lot on his mind,” Twilight piped up as he led you through the woods. The man offered a small smile but the strain on his face wasn’t lost on you. “Any word from him?”
“No. Nothing. It’s like… like there’s no bond at all,” You reply. “Ever since the incident, it’s never been like that. If anything, Fierce always made an effort to feel ‘present’.”
“Maybe… he’s also taking a break?” Twilight suggested, trying to be the optimistic. You shoot him a look and that optimism is quick to falter. Twilight doesn’t give up and faces you with an uneasy smile. He gently places his hands on your shoulders and rubs them a little. You feel that it comforts him more than you. “C’mon, think about it. You’ve said that he’s not as violent as we believe him to be, so m-”
“Remove your hands from them, Hero of Twilight.”
The air is squeezed from your lungs as Twilight suddenly pulls you into a shielding embrace. His fur pelt partly blocks your vision, but you can make out an imposing silhouette between the trees. How did the both of you not notice him?
Fierce Deity was striking. He has to at least be seven feet tall and he was clad in armor similar to Time’s but it was a steely silver, not gold. The armor was lined with white fur with an abundance of it on his collar. Long, flowing locks of white swayed in the night time breeze. Fierce’s silver-gray eyes were framed by strong and downturned brows. His stare was… intense, to say the least. But your eyes weren’t on his. No, you were focused on finding out why there were splatters of blood on him.
“What did you do?!” Twilight growled. “Where’s Time? What did you do to him?!”
“I won’t ask again, Hero of Twilight. Release them,” Fierce commanded as he began to walk towards the both of you. Twilight only seemed to tighten his hold in response. This was going to end up being ugly unless you did something.
“Stop!” You exclaim as you try and fail to wrestle yourself out of Twilight’s hold. Both men head your order but the tense atmosphere doesn’t dissipate. You shoot Twilight a glare but the hero returns it as he shakes his head. True to his word from earlier, he wasn’t about to let you get close to the god of war.
A strangle cough breaks the silence as someone stumbles through the brush. Thanks to the golden armor, you knew exactly who it was.
“Oh god, Time!” You exclaim as the older man leans against a tree for support. His face is banged up and actively dripping blood. His armor was smeared with the red liquid as if he had been trying to wipe off the blood over and over again. Blood bubbled up from Time’s lips as he tried to gurgle out words. The pathetic sight was enough to shock Twilight into action as he let go of you and zipped towards the injured man.
“Ancestor! What happened?! What did he do to you?” Twilight questions as he supports the bloodied man. More gurgles and grunts leave the man’s mouth as he tries to answer the younger man’s questions. It’s clear to all present that Time is in no shape to answer questions despite the desperate need for it.
“Take him back to camp and have him healed up,” You order. The order earns you a stern shake of the head from both Twilight and Time, but you refused to budge. “Now, Twilight! I’ll be fine, I promise.”
“Go take care of him,” Fierce chimes in as he looks back to the two men. “No harm shall befall them. You have my word.”
With a tough choice to make, you can see the exact moment when a hero’s instinct takes over Twilight. He lifts up Time and barrels through the forest back to the camp. In the blink of any eye, you’re suddenly left alone with the very person who had to have harmed Time. You’re so out of your league in the current situation that you probably couldn’t even see the playing field on the horizon, but you weren’t about to back down.
“My dear-”
“What did you do to him?” You confront as you stand up as tall as you can. It’s nothing compared to the towering deity, but you weren’t about to let that stop you. Fierce seems amused by your actions. He leisurely walks towards you with his hands by his sides and a small smile on his face.
“Nothing too rash, my dear. Just a broken nose and some scraps to the face. Head wounds tend to bleed quite a lot, as you know,” Fierce answers vaguely.
“Why did you hurt him?” You continue to question as you start to back up. You wanted to keep distance between the both of you in case you had to turn heel and run. Not that’d you’d get very far, but you could only hope.
“I didn’t mean to hit him hard. He came at me and I punched him, simple as that,” Fierce assured as he continued his approach. “Surely, my dear, you believe me? You know I would not hurt another without reason.”
“The mask- how did you escape the mask?” You press as you do your best to keep your distance.
“That wooden prison was old and ready to crack. I never saught to free myself from its binds as there was little in this world that tempted me forward. Well, little until you came around. Ah, I still recall how gently you held me in your hands that night…” Fierce hummed as he closed in. It didn’t take long for him to corner you against a tree. Frozen against the trunk, you could no longer keep space between the two of you. Fierce leaned down and grabbed your hands with his own. He pressed them against his face and he stares straight into your eyes.
“Hello, (Name), I’m the one they call the Fierce Deity. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
Words evaded you, as did action. You didn’t pull away nor did you do anything else than having allowed Fierce guide your actions. The god chuckles at your frozen deer response as he moves his hands under your arms and lifts you up. You cringe as he holds you close and blood seeps into your clothes and the smell of iron assaults your nose. Fierce nuzzles against your cheek and buries his strong nose into your shoulder. In your shock, you can’t tell if he kisses your shoulder or if it’s just your imagination.
“YOU BASTARD!”
A growl reverberates through you as Fierce grits his teeth. His embrace tightens as he turns to face a small group of men. A near foaming at the mouth Legend leads the party of enraged me. Upon seeing you in the grasp of the deity, the rabid man refrains from attacking but it’s clear he’s waiting for his opening. A similarly enraged Sky, Four, and Wars follow behind him and a snarling Wolfie is quick to catch up with the group.
“Quell your tongue, Veteran. They’re already stressed enough,” Fierce huffs as he rubs a hand up and down your back.
“Then let them go! Can’t you see that you’re scaring them even further?” Sky argues as he adjusts his grip on the Master Sword. Unlike Legend, he’s not still on his feet as he begins to move in an attempt to flank Fierce. Wars and Wolfie catch onto his plan while Four stays steady beside Legend.
“They are shocked, Hero of the Sky. Their senses are overwhelmed at the moment from tonights events,” Fierce dismisses the claim. He takes his eyes of the men and looks at you. His voice his low and gentle when he addresses you. “Correct, my dear? You know I’d never want to harm or scare you.”
You shrink away from Fierce and refuse to look him in the eye. The actions draw out a sigh from the god but he doesn’t force a response out of you. Instead, you feel yourself sway with his body as he begins to move. There are shouts and orders from the other men to stay still but Fierce acts as if they were little more than the surrounding scenery.
“Let’s get you back to camp. You must be hungry after all of this excitement. Can you hold a spoon? I’ll feed you if you can’t,” Fierce murmurs to you as he walks. You nod in response and the god sighs again. “Come now, my dear, what has happened to that beautiful voice of yours? Do not tell me you’re so mad at me that you’d cut me off from such sweet melodies?”
“Why do you keep calling me that?”
Fierce slows to a stop. You can practically feel the puzzled expression radiating off of his face.
“My dear? What are you talking about?”
“Why are you calling me ‘my dear’?” You repeat as you pull away from Fierce’s shoulder. You can see his face scrunch up at your remark. You also see the men who confronted him following close behind.
“Because you are dear to me, (Name). You treated me fairly and sweetly, like I was a man- not a mask. You’ve told me more than what you’ve told anyone else. You always seemed happy to be near me for the longest time. Even after my brash actions that night, you still didn’t entirely recess into fear,” Fierce answers with a strong tone. “You may not realize it, but that is very important to me. You are very important to me and by the Golden Three do I intend on making that clear.”
Fierce resumes his large gait back to the camp. When he arrives, the reception is chilly. No one moves for their weapons but nor does anyone stay far away from them. Finally, Fierce sets you down onto the ground. You slump down to the soil below you as you take in deep breaths, unaware of how shallow your breathing had been before.
“Get a bowl of food ready- and don’t be skimpy,” Fierce orders as he stares down Wild. Wild grumbles something you can’t make out but he portions out a bowl for you. Fierce takes the portion from the cook before he can even leave the pot to give it to you. He settles himself by your side before shifting you into his lap. A spoon is brought up to your lips before you can argue. At the very least, Wild’s cooking never disappoints.
“Getting comfortable?” A rough voice breaks through the ambience of the night. A now healed but still beaten up Time stares down Fierce without a shred of fear. You immediately notice that he has both eyes open, and they’re both normal. Not to mention the fact that his face was now free from markings.
“Very,” Fierce curtly replies. He doesn’t bother to face Time as he’s focused on feeding you. The deity coos at you as your mouth is stuffed with food and your cheeks puff up as a result. The actions from the towering entity is… strange and off-putting to all present. The boys are stuck between glaring at the deity or cringing at his out of character actions. Fierce couldn't care less.
The evening passed by without much more incident. Everyone was jumpy and gave you and Fierce space despite the expressed distaste towards the new addition. There would be no knight in shining armor for you tonight, so you only hoped that Fierce would keep his word on treating you kindly.
Based on how he clung to you when it was time to go to bed, he seemed only further convinced he needed to assure you of that promise. He had shed his armor so you didn’t have to have metal pressing into you. He had also wrapped you up into a blanket burrito (something he made clear he learned from you and your ramblings) to limit the amount of skin on skin contact between you. He wasn’t blind to his intensity, so he was doing his best to restrain himself. You could only hope he’d keep up the will to do- for everyone’s sake.
“Sleep tight and sweet dreams, my dear,” Fierce whispered as he fiddled with the blanket covering you and stray strands of your hair. “I will be by your side the entire night, should you need me.”
“Okay…” You mumbled out as you wanted to do nothing more than hide away into your blanket. You closed your eyes but no amount of counting sheep would make falling asleep easy. Not with arms caging you to a man ever hungry for even your attention. Ever hungry for even a sliver of affection. By Hylia, what have you gotten yourself into.
“I love you, my dear,” Fierce mumbles as he believes you’re on the brink of falling asleep. “And remember… my love for your is eternal.”
And by the Goddesses, how do you get yourself out?
A wide and fanged smile cracks against the skin of your neck. A dark and hopefully playful chuckle leaves the god of war’s lips.
