#hyrule has dog brain

[unexpectedstormy]

How likely each hero is to immediately chase something they saw

#linked universe #the scale of chase from my other post #but this time with errybody #and not just a few of them #I tried to find panels where each link is smiling #it was surprisingly hard #If I had any sense of self-control I'd queue this #but no #as soon as I finish a thing I want to fling it into the world immediately for everyone to see #I'm hyperfixating on all the wrong things today #I'm supposed to be cleaning out my old house #so I can turn over the keys to my landlady #hyrule has dog brain #microsoft powerpoint my beloved #utlimate meme-making tool #and snipping tool

[bokettochild]

Random Legend Headcanons that haunt my brain at stupid hours <3

He has a big sweet tooth, but less so for sugary things and mostly more for fruits

greatest seemingly "irrational" fear is dogs, he has never liked them even since childhood, and the only dog he can stand is the old sheepdog his grandparent's kept to keep track of the goats

Sky is his favorite. Sky is real with him and doesn't dismiss him as an asshole = automatic favorite. They also share a lot in common

he and Sky like gossiping when no one is paying attention to them. Not about the other heroes necessarily, they just both find it fun

oral stims: he likes his hands free, but chewing/sucking on things helps him focus better and stay calm. He refuses to admit how many times he's found himself chewing on his medallions

he loves puzzles. You'd think he'd gotten enough of them in his adventures, but nope! Hes been doing this long enough that going WITHOUT puzzles to solve actually makes him feel bored. He likes the challenge of it, it keeps his brain ticking

history nerd. A lot of Hyrule's culture/history/tradition was lost because the people were just trying to survive after Ganon killed the hero, so Legend really likes trying to hunt down the pieces of the past to put together what it was like. It's a big puzzle for him, and he loves talking about it if he feels he'll actually be listened too

he knits. He doesn't know many patterns, but he knows some basic stitches and the repetition calms him down

good at most needlework, sucks at embroidery. He likes it, it's just too stressful for him. He's in awe of the fact that Sky's so good at it.

he actually loves the sea I know most writers have him scared of it, but he's got far more happy memories than bad ones, so while it's bittersweet, he still enjoys being near the water (as log as it's not storming)

hates lightning storms with a passion. Storms in general make his arthritis worse, but the lightning trauma sucks a lot more

actually enjoys light rain showers. it still effects his pain levels, but not super bad, and it's worth it to him

has the most un-attractive laugh ever. He tends to snort and cackle like a madman. He does have a "polite laugh" but it's far less genuine.

he CAN cook, he just doesn't care to. Food is an annoying requirement and necessity for him most of the time, and more of a chore than he's willing to admit

he has the biggest soft spot for kids, partially because of Gully, partially by nature

the most susceptible to Baby Therapy (the effect of feeling at peace, content, happy, or relief while holding a small child) Ulli figured this out early on and now abuses it.

he loves stargazing. Stars are a constant no matter where he goes and they're like old friends (got this from the manga)

he's an artist and a perfectionist, his preferred medium is paints, but he does carry a sketchbook

loves physical contact, but is hesitant about others boundaries, so he rarely initiates or maintains it

I have more, but yeah, this is getting pretty long :')

#lu legend #linked universe #linkeduniverse #ketto can't sleep #so have some blorbo thoughts

[cafecourage]

Have now seen the other post. I low-key wanna read the chain all being bunnies for a day.

- Glitter ✨

I’ll do bunny Headcanons for you just so you know what you’re getting into. I had to do a lot of research for this.

Time:

- Time is a Flemish Giant mainly because of them being on the bigger side of the scale. But also they’re apparently the oldest and calmest breed there is.

- I don’t think he is in a rush to be turned back. If anything he is going to just plop into your lap and stay there. He is an old man let him flop over and rest.

- He doesn’t get the zoomies sadly. The most you get from him is climbing on you or following you around because he wants pets. But he will go to take care of the others too.

- Time tends to be the one papping the others to calm down if they start up again. He doesn’t want to hurt them while in this situation but he doesnt want to overwhelm you.

- He is probably in the middle of the cuddle pile. He is the biggest rabbit of them all.

Twilight:

- Twilight being related to Time also is a Flemish Giant bun. Though I would think he is a bit more fluffy compared to Time.

- THIS MAN IS SO CONFUSED WITH THIS NEW FORM. Like seriously! He isn’t used to being this type of mammal! He feels a bit vulnerable as buns are prey animals and he was a wolf.

- He will have zoomies as he is going faster than as a wolf. Which is wild to his brain as both animal brains are competing. Twilight is probably more dog then bun still as he probably has chased his tail and looked like he was about to take off helicopter style.

- Twilight is probably on Wild and Hyrule duty as they 100% will wonder off and he is the only one that really can track as an animal.

- He is also going to be in a few cuddle piles. BUT MAN DOES THIS BOY LIKE PETS. Him and Wild are going to have a pile on your lap. AKA Twilight is going to lay on top of Wild to get him to stay still.

Warriors:

- It seems French Lops are the most “prized” for rabbits but I’m doing base research. They are normally sweet, calm and Intelligent which sounds a lot like our captain.

- Warriors is slightly weirded out that he is a bun. In the end he is just trying to watch over the younger ones. He doesn’t really mind it but he really hates the feeling of having dirt in his fur. It’s also nice to have his fur brushed out.

- The captain stomps a lot mainly because he wants some sort of order. He is huffing and puffing as shenanigans keep happening while he wants just some kind of peace. You just cant help but coo over how cute he is even while pouting.

- Warriors also wont start cuddle piles but will be dragged into it. Mostly by Wind. He does something similar to Twilight and lays on Wind sometimes just incase but the sailor doesn’t seem to mind.

- WHAT HE DOES LIKE IS BEING PICKED UP. Warriors doesn’t know why but he loves getting held and can’t help but melt into your arms.

Sky:

- I saw an English Lop and pointed screaming SKY. They are very calm and easy natured and very cute but I’m bias and think long ear rabbits are cute.

- Like Time, Sky bee lines to your lap. He wants you to be his pillow now. It’s revenge really. Sky is going to hinder your ability to figure out how to fix this because as soon as you sit down he is in your lap.

- Sky is also the one’s that keep everyone in the cuddle piles. Because he is a chonk boy he is basically a weighted blanket but smol(ish). He just wants everyone to calm down and enjoy the moment of not being in instant danger.

- He probably has gotten almost everyone here to cuddle. Since he doesn’t really have the zoomies due to him being a sluggish boy but also a more chill boy. He just wants cuddles.

- Sky doesn’t care about being picked up tbh. He doesn’t mind it but he really just wants you to sit and cuddle.

Legend:

- Dutch Rabbits visually look like the rabbits I’ve seen before. Given that Legend is angry about being a rabbit in the first place I think a Docile breed would make things worse.

- He is the only one that can talk still, so he is helping you figure out how to help them as you can’t hold the master sword as your not a hero and your trying to figure out how to use a moonstone.

- Legend doesn’t mind being a bun right now as he really just is used to it at this point. If anything he is trying to fill everyone in about how to be one and avoid getting distracted by you.

- This man doesn’t get zoomies anymore sadly but he is still the fastest of the bunch so he is partly crowd control for the younger and partly trying to get everyone to stay together.

- Legend will succumb to a cuddle or two or three. He is going to flop on Hyrule though.

Hyrule:

- The American Rabbit is apparently a rare breed of rabbit. Which Given Hyrule’s whole thing makes sense. Typically they are good-natured and calm.

- Hyrule is going to wander. Though not to far as he really doesn’t like that he is small and killable. But with Wild. Maybe. He does like the new perspective.

- HYRULE LOVES CUDDLES AND TO BE PICKED UP. He isn’t gonna ask for them as its clear that the others want cuddles from you but he will join any piles though.

- Zoomies are rare for Hyrule as he is a bit anxious. He really just doesn’t want to get lost in this situation. He will give chase if he wants to.

- Please brush his fur, he really likes it when you play with his hair as a normal person so it’s 10/10 as a bun.

Wild:

- Beveren Rabbit’s are highly energetic and curious apparently so perfect for Wild! I was going to make Hyrule this one but give its Wild I thought this would be better.

- Wild is the embodiment of though caution to the wind as he will go explore in this form. Hyrule might stop him but Twilight wasn’t going to let him get lost ether.

- He doesn’t mind getting into a cuddle pile but he definitely minds if SOMEONE flops on him. That being Twilight but if you wanted cuddled then thats no issue.

- Wild was made for Zoomies. He has a lot of energy and we know he wont stay still. He might start chases and play time but that isn’t much of an issue since Wind is always up for fun.

- Wild will also 100% try to eat stuff he isn’t suppose to so please stop him. Just scoop him up and bap him lightly.

Four:

- I pick this one on perpose as I wanted to know what was the smallest domestic rabbit. Which apparently is the Netherland Dwarf Rabbit. The only issue that I am reading is that they are high energy and a bit aggressive. Which given how many times Four is about to fist fight people I am going to wave my hand.

- You don’t understand how pissed this man is to still be the smallest bun around. But this just means he is fun sizes for cuddles! You can carry him around with one hand probably and now he has the advantage because you can do things with him!

- Four is also on watch duty for the ones that tend to be more rambunctious. He had automatically helps Warriors with Wind or Legend with Hyrule. He also is probably the most used to being this small because of being minish size. Though this is obviously a bit bigger I still argue once he gets his movement right he is on his A game.

- Four is a cuddle bug and will fall into temptation is any of the boys ask for cuddles. He ends up being squish though but it does feel like he is under a weighted blanket most of the time.

- The Zoomies wont take this guy that often. However he will begrudgingly give chase. It’s fine. He doesn’t want to run around the group chasing Wind but here he is. Zooming around.

Wind:

- This is another breed I looked up because I wanted a specific thing. Marsh Rabbits live semiaquatic lives and are really good swimmers!

- This boy is running into so many people as he wants to play. This boy is a ball of energy and will run circles around the camp. He has jump straight into the water a few times.

- Wind loves cuddle times and will take anyone’s offer to cuddle. Four, Warriors and Legend will be his target to bring into cuddles as it’s fun!

- He is also going to chase Four around for fun as the mini bun’s just want to have fun. So they will probably distract each other.

- Wind is just happy for things are more interesting than traveling to one town to the other. He really just wants to take advantage of this.

#twilight (not lu) speaks #linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse x reader #luxreader #monkey bread #idk much about buns #caramel macchiato #funfetti cake #fruit cake #gingerbread loaf #pumpkin bread #spice cake #coffee #lemonaid #honey baked apple

[the-au-collector]

Linked Universe College Radio AU

Since I recently got some motivation to work on this one, I figured I would brain dump a little about my LU College Radio AU. It's basically a college/university AU but each of the main LU Links are somehow associated with their college radio station at Kakariko University.

Why radio? I was listening to The Oh Hellos when the idea struck me so each of the works are hopefully going to have titles taken from Oh Hellos songs. This will, hopefully, just mostly focus on the Links + the radio station but who knows? I added way too many characters to this braindump but oh well

The Links

Time

Staff coordinator for the radio station

Broadcasting professor

Usually gets stuck teaching the freshman and sophomores

Married to the zoology professor, Malon

Taking care of Twilight's dog, Wolfie, until Twilight finds a dog-friendly place. Acts like he hates it, but he actually loves it

Infamous for being a hardass

"Call me Time. Don't call me Link, that's my nephew. Don't call me Professor Lon, that's my wife"

Legend

Has done just about anything and everything

Knows everyone, but just because he's been here so long and has done so much

Has officialy been an agriculture major, a meteorology major, a humanities major, a fine art major, a fashion design major, and an engineering major in the past

Has finally settled with being a broadcasting major after doing the Jaded Boys radio show with Wild

Part of the Jaded Boys with Wild, then is part of Triple Threat with Wild and Hyrule

Lives off-campus with his current partner, Ravio

Also lives with Warriors

Used to date a girl named Marin from Mabe City. No he doesn't talk about it

Does not like driving. Or storms.

Has a cane

Even in an AU he can't escape the Koholint Trauma

Wild

Campus cryptid

Everyone knows him. No one knows what he's studying

(It's engineering. He, Purah, and Fauna are a terror to the school together)

Addicted to energy drinks

Never studies, always passes exams

Always socially overbooked

Has amnesia and bad scarring from a house fire

Was adopted by Teba and Saki after said house fire

Has a twin brother named Age. Most people think Age is older but Wild's actually older

Was the one who coerced Legend and Hyrule into radio

Lives in a house off-campus with Twilight, Age, Sidon, Yunobo, Mipha, and Revali.

Has committed arson before

Has gotten arrested for committing arson before

Twilight

Zoology major

Is the reason Wild's still alive

Used to be roommates with Wild in the dorms when they were freshmen

Took a gap year between high school and college

Has a dog named Wolfie

Regular guest on Triple Threat

Runs the Helpful Paws club, which is a club all about service dogs. Ilia helps run said club

Works on Legend's uncle's orchard during the weekends

Four

Computer science major

Technology director at the radio station (yes this position only exists because of Wild)

Friendly rivalry with Wild because Wild breaks everything

Shadow is his step-brother

Warriors

Fashion design major

Joined Legend and Ravio's lease at the last minute because of stuff that happened between him and his other roommates

Has a restraining order against Cia and doesn't talk to Lana

Is currently dating Artemis, a fashion merchandising major

Met Legend when Legend was doing fashion design. No one knows how they're friends. They fight all the time.

Legend forced him to make his own radio show when Wild roped Legend into doing the Jaded Boys. So now Warriors has a show called Wednesday With Warriors

Sky

Senior aviation major

Runs The Loftwings with his fiancé, Sun, and his best friend, Groose.

Has a bad habit of sleeping through his alarm

Currently taking care of his older brother's mouthy parrot, Crimson.

Also lives with Groose and Sun

Wind

Freshman metrology major

Super friendly

Cares more about the college experience than learning

Hyrule's roommate

After Hyrule starts doing Triple Threat, Wind gets the idea to do the Wind Waker podcast with Tetra where they sing sea shanties and tell pirate stories

Spirit is his introverted cousin and he's made it his goal to get Spirit to get out more

He also does the same with Hyrule

Hyrule

Freshman undecided major

Joins Triple Threat under Wild's insistence

Very shy

Grew up in a really small town

Wind's roommate

Is regularly forced out of the dorm by Wind but prefers to just wander around town and campus

Childhood friends with Dawn

Age

Wid's twin brother who is very different from Wild

Business major, accounting minor

Dating Mipha, a senior nursing student

Rarely goes to parties, but plays damage control when Wild hosts them at their house

Does remember his and Wild's past. Wild's amnesia caused a rift to form between them for a while, but they're working on getting past that now

Was also adopted by Teba and Saki

Shadow

Four's step-brother

Vaati's his dad, but he's cut Vaati out of his life now

Theater major with a minor in set design

Got his nickname from no one being able to see him onstage when moving props around

Everyone is convinced he has some sort of magical powers

A bit shy, and a bad boy

Dating Dot

Spirit

Freshman engineering major

His roommate is Niko

Wind's introverted cousin who's often dragged out of his dorm by Wind

Would much rather spend time with construction documents than people

First

Sky's older brother who's not around a lot since he's in the military (he's a doctor)

Married to a woman named Hylia

Has a parrot named Crimson that he's trusting Sky to take care of

The Zeldas

Lullaby

Works at Kakriko Univeristy as a broadcasting professor

An old flame of Time's, but they've both moved on by now

Usually teaches upper division classes

Fable

Legend's older sister who lives in Castle City

Already graduated with a business degree

Comes around for the holidays and drops in occasionally to see how Legend's doing

Flora

Constantly overbooked with school

Double-majoring in anthropology and history

Part of hundreds of different clubs and student organizations

Hard to get a moment alone with her at all

Has recently gotten close to Rauru and Sonia, who are both anthropology students

Fauna's twin sister. Flora's younger, though

Dusk

Political science major

Knows Twilight through Midna but since Twi and Midna broke up, Dusk doesn't really talk to Twilight anymore

Roommates with Midna and Artemis

Dot

Political science major and Four's childhood friend

Hopes to get into law school one day

Dating Shadow (her dad isn't too happy about this)

Lives with Aurora and Dawn and used to be roommates with Aurora when they were in the dorms

Artemis

Fashion merchandising major

Warriors' girlfriend

Used to also be his housemate, but after things happened with Cia and Lana she moved in with Midna and Dusk

Still occasionally talks to Lana

Sun

Senior aviation major and Sky's fiancé

Runs The Loftwings with Sky and Groose

Also lives with Sky and Groose

Appears to be very level-headed on the outside, but is secretly kind of crazy

Tetra

Ecology major with a minor in biology

Eventually becomes close friends with Wind

Roommates with Phantom and they get along like fire and gasoline

(seriously do not let either of those girls near a lighter... or boxing gloves)

Part of the Wind Waker podcast with Wind

Aurora

Senior political science major

She, Dot, and Dawn live together

Dawn is her younger sister

Is going to move to Castle City after graduation

Refuses to go home after having a horrible falling out with her brother

Dawn

Freshman early childhood education major

Wants to teach kindergarten and preeschool one day

Lives with her older sister, Aurora, and Aurora's roommate, Dot

Doesn't plan on returning to her hometown either

Childhood friends with Hyrule

Fauna

Flora's twin sister who's majoring in engineering and minoring in biology

Best friends with Purah and Impa

Closer to Age than Wild, but she's in a lot of classes with Wild

It is a horrible idea to leave her, Purah, and Wild alone in a room together

Has a cat named Terrako, who hates everyone except for her

Her father puts a lot of pressure on both her and Flora, but Fauna feels it the most since she's the oldest

Phantom

Freshman communications major

Tetra's roommate

She looks like any old upperclass girl but she is always ready to throw hands

Somehow becomes friends with Spirit

Hylia

First's wife who's a doctor at a local hospital

Keeps an eye out for Sky even though she knows he doesn't really need it

Will bring Sky and his friends food and snacks

Absolutely willing to drive Sky and his friends home when none of them can drive

Very motherly and open

Some Others:

Malon

Time's wife who's a zoology professor

Twilight has started a protection squad for her (all the Links are part of it. Even Time)

Everyone loves her

Ravio:

Legend's partner

Business major

Has a bird named Sheerow who poops everywhere

Despite this he is the cleanest one in the apartment

Constantly roping Legend into new business ideas

Used to run a shop out of his and Legend's dorm room when they lived in the dorms together. Legend's pretty sure it was against the rules. Ravio doesn't care

Acts greedy, but is actually living off his loans

Never goes home. He goes over Legend's Uncle's house for holidays now.

His younger sister, Hilda, often sleeps over and Legend and Ravio's

Has a horrible relationship with his father, Yuga

Sidon, Mipha, Revali, Yunobo:

Wild's housemates alongside Twilight and Age

Revali claims he's the only reason the house hasn't burned down

Revali is also one of Teba and Saki's adopted children, and had a bit of a superiority complex over being adopted first (he was there first) when they were kids. He's gotten better, but he's still a bit of a jerk to Wild. He and Age have bonded over Wild constantly giving them heart attacks

Sidon is a sophomore political science major who is super friendly, but has a hard time stopping conversations. Head over heels for his girlfriend, Yona. Is also super tall and often mistaken for being the older sibling

Mipha is a senior nursing student. Sidon's older sister, Age's girlfriend. If there's a medical emergency, chances are the Links are calling Mipha first even though they really should go to the hospital instead

Revali is a senior aviation major and hopes to join the air force after college to "get away from the filth" (meaning Age and Wild. He would never call Tulin filth)

Yunobo is a sophomore geoscience major. Works at his grandpa's coffee shop, Goron City Coffee

Urbosa, Daruk, Riju:

Urbosa is Riju's aunt and and mother figure to Flora and Fauna. She lives in Castle City, but often comes to Kakariko to give guest lectures. She's a businesswoman

Daruk is Yunobo's grandpa who owns Goron City Coffee. He often lets the radio host events at his coffee shop, and acts like a father figure for Wild's friend group

Riju is a freshman business major who wants to be like her aunt, Urbosa. Flora and Fauna see her as their younger sister.

Teba, Saki, Tulin:

Revali was adopted first, then Age and Wild

Teba is retired from being in the military

Saki teaches private singing lessons

Tulin is the Baby of the family and is in middle school. He is an absolute terror. Never let Wild babysit him, they will both get into trouble. Tulin is everyone's favorite and Tulin will use that to his advantage

Ilia:

Twilight's friend who helps run the Helpful Paws club

She has a huge crush on Twilight but doesn't want to overstep, especially after the bad break up with Midna

Rusl, Uli, Colin:

Twilight's family in Ordon who adopted him when he was about 8

Colin's just starting high school and is dealing with a lot of bullying, so he calls Twilight often for help

Rusl is a detective, but he's on paternity leave right now since Uli just had their daughter

Grandpa Smith:

Four and Shadow's grandpa

Took them both in after their mother died and Vaati went to prison

Four was usually a good kid, but Shadow was a little terror

Lives in Kakariko City so he gets to see his boys often

Cia and Lana:

Twins who both had huge crushes on Warriors

Cia got jealous when Wars started dating Lana

Cia is a psychology major, but now is largely known as the campus creep

Lana was a fashion design major, but changed schools after the drama with Warriors happened

Groose:

Sky and Sun's roommate and fellow host of The Loftwings

Proudly boasts that he's their best man

Also a senior aviation major

#linked universe #linked universe au #college radio au #college au #lu time #lu twilight #lu wild #lu wind #lu four #lu shadow #lu spirit #lu age #lu first #lu legend #lu hyrule #lu warriors #lu ravio #lu zelda #lu sky #lu malon #lu wolife #this ended up way longer than I intended it to but have this brainrot #why do the breath of the wild/tears of the kingdom/age of calamity characters have to take up so much of this AU #Not that I don't like them there's just a lot of them

[peepslibrary]

Introducing~ Lay Bankz

This is probably one of the funniest things I've ever written. I guess this qualifies as a song fic? If you've been on tiktok a couple months ago, you'd probably recognize this song.

Synopsis: What would happen if the LU boys heard the song Ick?

Warnings: Explicit lyrics, mentions of sex

Y'all can thank @trippygalaxy for this.

... Why is there a portal right outside the camp?

Why is there

a

PORTAL-

You're fairly confident the whole town heard your sigh and the chain's groans as y'all packed everything up and linked hands to go through the stupid portal. The other side of the portal was - in fact - NOT another Hyrule. It was a stadium. A stadium filled to the brim with people, a gigantic stage, and multicolored lights moving all around. Ok wait- the portal might've been the least of your problems.

The group looks around with emotions varying from confused to overstimulated. Honestly, if you squint you could see their braincells work together. You turn around, doing a quick headcount. “Wait, where’s Wind?” You count again and… nope still 9 including you. Fuck

I don't mean to judge off a first impression. Or his part-time job at 7/11. But he's a broke-ass peasant ask-

You feel your eyebrows furrow. Where do you know this song??

(ick) and he's got bad credit (ick) and he got a foot fetish (ick) DNR, but he tryin' paramedic

Shit... that's where you recognize this from. Tiktok

You're quick to move and cover Sky’s ears, making a silent prayer to whatever poor soul is listening. You need to get everyone out. You guys need to find Wind and you're fairly confident that everyone present will get red in the face when they register the lyrics.

"Time." Thankfully he managed to hear you despite the current situation. You see him angle his head up for a milisecond. Just subtle enough for you to reply with a tilt of your head towards an emergency exit. He doesn't hesitate to nod, moving to Wars and Twilight to help move everyone along. It's not a stretch to think that he's overstimulated with the environment. Has any of them ever heard this much noise so close?? You wouldn't wish that on your worst enemy.

Actually... Dink can kiss your ass. He's literally the one that pulled you into this craziness in your pjs. Like... dude coulda waited until you were decent t-

“Hey, what’s going on?” You curse and look up at the question-er. His eyes stuck looking at the ground, his ears lowered under your hands while his playing with the fabric of his sailcloth. “Sky I’m trying to get you guys out of-“

(Ew) Lady boner gone (Oh no), He dry humpin' me and huffin' like a dog (Hah, hah), And he whispered in my ear did I get off?

You didn’t think it was possible to cringe laugh *this* hard. But oh boy, the collective faces made shouldn’t have been that funny. Red in the face and trying to move everyone faster - incredibly hard considering they’re all standing like statues - are Time, Wars, Legend, and Twilight. Sky, Wild, Four, and Hyrule have moved to cover their own ears, with some crouched against the floor.

Somehow everyone is able to leave the stadium with only their innocence (or lack of thereof) injured, only to find Wind standing with a security guard eating a string cheese and a can of soda next to him.

“There you guys- what happened?” Wind makes his way to y’all and you use that chance to check for visible injuries, making sure no one injured him.

“Although it’s likely they would be the one injured.” Your brain supplied helpfully.

“Uhh…” you look at the group’s states, “let’s just say they weren’t expecting what was inside the stadium.” Wind nods in understanding, “Yeah, Sam wouldn’t let me in because it was ‘for adults.’” You spare a glance towards the guard, who gives a humored nod and sends you guys on your way.

#had to listen to this song on REPEAT #Y'ALL MY BRAIN DIED #first post ever plz excuse formatting #linked universe x reader #lu x reader #modern reader #x reader #cw swearing #cw suggestive

[gust-jar-simulator]

I like the idea of Vio adopting some Gerudo traditions as a way of mourning Shadow and coping with his loss.

I base a lot of my Gerudo culture headcanons on ancient Egypt, even though my specialty is Mesopotamia and “ancient Egypt” is about as vague as saying “yeah I have a mammal in my house”. The time frame we’re looking at- ancient Egypt is so vast that actual ancient Egyptians had their own archaeologists studying their own past. So. Read my uncited and sleep-deprived fandom post with that in mind, and maybe go look up Hathor’s significance as a goddess of both mining and makeup, or the origin of the dog star. People seem to think Egypt was all about death.

Still, I’m here for goth blorbo posting, so talk of death it is!

For my personal headcanons, and Hyrule Historia’s debatable take on Shadow being made from Ganondorf AND Link- I think he was both an attempt at mocking Link, but also possibly an attempt to create a Gerudo hero. It must sting that not only can Ganondorf never win, but even his people suffer the short end of the stick. I’ll leave Shadow’s creation and the motives behind it up in the air, but- I do like the idea of him being somewhat racially Gerudo, if not raised in it culturally. Shadow is alone, running on emotions and instincts that might be his and might be the old hate of an endlessly reincarnated demon. His brain keeps spitting up random facts about the divine ritual significance of the king, flooding season and how to respectfully summon ghosts, and he has no idea what to do with any of this.

Until, of course, one day he brings home a cute nerdy twink to the evil castle and Shadow wants this guy’s attention So Bad. Cue poorly planned and half-understood infodumping that still earns him Vio’s complete undivided attention and possibly even cuddles. We don’t know what they were doing while Blue and Red tried not to die. Maybe they painted eachother’s nails while Shadow awkwardly coughed up random facts about Gerudo noun modifiers. (It would work on me)

Let’s fast forward.

Shadow is, for all intents and purposes, very dead by the end of things. While I love the idea of Vio descending into the guts of occult research hell to bring him back, there’s time between the end of the adventure and when- or even if- his attempts work. Research is one coping mechanism. How else does he want to remember Shadow?

Shadow wanted to be a person, above all else. Real, someone to be looked in the eye and respected. Nobody else is going to mourn him- who else would have cared enough, known him enough? The other parts of Link might try to understand for Vio’s sake, but they didn’t live it. They didn’t drink with him and toss around awful villain greetings like “vile morning your wretchedness”. The only people who don’t get graves or rites or anything are… well, being deliberately treated as less than people. And even if Shadow was a magic construct made of half a dozen things and the kitchen sink, enough of him was Gerudo for him to cling to it and say this, this is evidence that I’m a person too.

Something about the practice of religion that might not be immediately apparent to the average white American Protestant or culturally Christian atheist is that orthopraxy and orthodoxy are two different things. Correct action versus correct belief, essentially. In the ancient world, it often didn’t matter if you “believed” in a god, especially if you were in a high political position- the motions still had to be performed. It was taken as a matter of fact that the ghosts needed to be given bread and the rash on your neck was a sign of a god’s displeasure that could be interpreted via medical divination.

I’m vastly simplifying it because this is a fandom post and I’m running on two hours of sleep, so I’ll cut to the chase- it doesn’t matter if Vio “follows” the goddess of the sands or any other deity, or even none at all. If he thinks Shadow would have wanted beer and bread left out for his ghost, according to how any real person would be honored, I don’t think it’s out of the question that he might just do that. Plus, I think Vio would be invested enough in how Shadow would want his memory to be treated that he’d do the reading and maybe hop over to the Desert of Doubt to ask the Gerudo for proper funerary details in person. Again, it’s not like Shadow would have any other family or friends to fill the role.

Vio absolutely has a little sketch of Shadow in his room with a glass of water and a little plate next to it, and when Blue leaves a giant platter of stress-baked cookies outside his door he shares them with his dead boyfriend. I’m just saying. The guy may be dead but the love is not.

#the goth vio saga #vidow #pagan religion rambles in my Zelda? it’s more likely than you’d think

[angry-trashcan]

Why Are You Here?!

Part two (First)

This has just turned into me putting my funny ideas into something. Very self indulgent and that's okay.

Warnings: Vulgar lyrics

1K WC This is the song that's mentioned in this.

These boys were getting on my damn nerves. They had been at my house for over a month now. And while it was fun, it was exhausting having that many people in my little house. The house was built for me and my dog for fuck’s sake. I don’t have the room to keep all of these people. I know it’s not their fault, I do. And I enjoy their company, through all of the complaining I’m doing. It’s just the lack of privacy and quiet time that was eating at me.

The younger ones seemed to have absolutely no concept of personal space or alone time. Legend once used the bathroom while I was in the shower. Wind would just barge into my room. Hyrule had gone through all of my cabinets and drawers at least twice. Wild knocked down my pride flag and drug it into the living room asking me why I had my country’s flag on my ceiling.

So yeah, I was a bit in need of alone time.

It finally happened when they decided to go ‘looking for a portal’ in the woods by the house. I declined every offer to go with them. Insisting they would find their way through the woods themselves.

“If you reach a really big road with a bunch of cars going fast you went too far! Turn around!” I called out to them before slamming the door to the finally empty house. I took a deep breath, before searching for the TV remote. I checked every single drawer and cabinet. And well, it was lost. One of them probably set it somewhere to never be found. I blew hair out of my face, going to my room and getting my headphones instead. I slipped them over my head and pulled out my phone. Spotify was opened and music was turned on as loud as it would go.

Looking back over the extremely destroyed house, I sighed and started picking up the strewn about blankets. Once they were sniffed and determined which needed to be washed (all of them of course), I piled them up and went to the dishes. Overflowing with caked on food from Wild’s cooking. While I appreciated the help cooking for ten people, the boy didn’t know how to clean up after himself. Something about the slate always cleaning his pot and the bowls for him. I just blamed him not remembering how to do it.

It took almost two hours to clean the house. The smell of bleach and incense fought in the air. It was still way too hot to even consider opening a window. I figured the chain still had a good hour or so before they got back. So, when I started dancing to the music, I didn’t think it mattered. This is my house and if I want to dance and sing loudly when I’m alone I’ll do it, dammit.

And then that song came on shuffle. The one that had been stuck in my head for weeks. It scratched just the right part of my brain. So, when I started belting the words out at top volume, it was well warrened. The full… effect of the lyrics not hitting me as they left my mouth.

“I don’t really talk like this I know, but this gotta real big OOP for sure!” I slammed the last cabinet closed with my hip as I danced to the song. My arms were over my head as I spun around to the music. I even did that one Tik-Tok dance, swinging my arms around as I spun around in a small circle. I put the song on repeat when it was over. May as well get my dose of it in while I can. Maybe it’ll get out of my head.

It kept replaying as I moved to my room to clean in there next. Door left open so I would notice if they got home. I moved Sage’s air mattress to the side of the room so I had the full floor. The dancing and singing never stopped, even when I was folding the laundry and putting it away. The chores were finally done a few replays later. Which meant full free time to sing the loudest I could and shake my ass as much as I could.

“He said he wanna take it to the room, let’s go! He ain’t gotta tell me what to do I know!” I closed my eyes, throwing my arms back over my head as I jumped around in a little circle. If only I had heard the front door open. “He like it when I bend it over and I arch my back!” And I did just that. “He tap me on my shoulders I said, ‘Yeah, I like that’!” If only I had heard the clearing of throats. “This pussy don’t purr, this pussy’ll bite back.” I even put my knee up like I was popping it out. “And that OOP so good, I sound like his hype man. Now that OOP got me doing all the nasty things I said I wouldn’t do!”

And by the gods. I opened my eyes at that line to see Sage, Time and Twilight staring at me. The rest standing outside the door, holding back snickers.

I slammed the bedroom door.

<><><><><><><><> 

I came home from work the next day to everyone gathered around the living room TV. Sage putting something on it while Wild worked on dinner. I didn’t say anything other than a few hellos as I took a seat at the table. The uncomfortable situation got even more so when a familiar beat started on the TV. I looked over to Sage, slack jaw as he smiled. “It’s a good one. Gotta give you that.” Hyrule snickered on the couch with Sky.

I shook my head. “I’d love to see you dance and sing to it next.”

“Why? Cause you got the hots for me?”

I went to my room for the night.

Bonus: Me yawning and Sage saying, “What does that song say about yawning, again?”

#anyway #lu wild #lu legend #lu time #lu twilight #lu hyrule #lu wind #lu sage #lu sky #lu four #lu warriors #lu fanfiction #linked universe fanfic

[transskywardsword]

Pertaining to Demon Kings

eeeeyyyyy after ages, it's finally here, the second official chapter of Heroes Gate, which is a Ghirahim's pov chapter. Ghirahim has been an absolute JOY to write, he is so mean. so mean. If you haven't read the first chapter of Heroes Gate, Dawning, I'd HIGHLY recommend you do so. You can read it and the other drabbles for heroes gate here on ao3. if you are interested in the AU as a whole, more info on it can be found here!

*note: ghirahim, yuga, and zant are not present in this au's version of hyrule warriors, as even in an au abt time line shenanigans that's just too much for my brain

also, shout out to the zelda name drop, we'll be crossing over with zelda's universe soon! @thebleedingeffect asked to be tagged when this came out, if anyone one else would like to be added to a tag list just lmk!

---

The spirit floated in the sheer gossamer of nonexistence, an oil spill across black waters, a splatter of emotion and vague consciousness, not enough to think but enough to rage. It had been thrown there when the filthy flesh creature attempted to butcher its Master, sealing away his divine being at the last moment, some sick mockery of mercy. In the crack between the Sacred Realm and the Realm of Reality, its anger raged on, vicious and violent. It consumed its very being, till all that was left of a once proud vessel was a puddle of fury. There was no time in the void, no thoughts, nothing but an all-consuming need to scratch and bite and maul, to rip the flesh creature limb from limb and baptize its Master in the damn thing’s blood. The thing’s screams would serve as a blessed hymn as its Master rose, and when they were finally silenced, it would revel in the decay and rot. That image was the closest it came to concrete thought, and it thought of it often.

It was dimly surprised when a noise broke through the black absence of creation. There was no sound in nonexistence, no sound or taste or touch, just rage.

There came the sound again. Its eyes moved behind its eyelids—since when did it have eyelids? Since when had it been aware enough to question if it had anything?

It focused on the eyelids, twitched them, and marveled at how they responded to its commands. It moved its closed eyes, flickering them back and forth, and felt the muscle move. They weren’t supposed to—nothing moved in the void. So how could—

There came the sound again. A command? A name?

Did it have a name? Its Master had called it something once, blessed it with a title, but it couldn’t seem to remember. Remember—was it capable of remembering? It remembered the touch of its Master’s firm, fiery scales, remembered the hotness of the flesh creature’s blood, remembered the pulse of the Spirit Maiden under his fingers—

Fingers. Fingers? He had fingers?

There came that noise again. It was, frankly, quite annoying. He wanted it to shut up, and twitched his lips, ready to tell it to. Lips, lips, lips…

He had been proud of his lips, his face, the body his Master gave him the honor of sculpting. The Goddess Sword never changed her form, but his Master had gifted him with a freedom the Goddess, that holy bitch, never did. 

Ghirahim opened his eyes.

A trio of white, smooth faces leaned over him in his frame of vision. They each had only one eye, red and piercing—a mask? A mask. The masked trio whispered to each other in a rough language Ghirahim knew well. The eye upon their faces mocked him, its bloody teardrop so bitterly familiar.

Sheikah. The Goddess’s loyal dogs come to finish him off. A black, metallic hand shot out and wrapped around the first Sheikah’s neck—a hand, his hand, black and smooth, his final form, his most natural state— and squeezed.

Grind-crunch-snap

The Sheikah went still as its neck buckled and crumbled under Ghirahim’s steel grip. Ghirahim threw the body to the side, and it rolled, skidding across the floor and coming to a stop on its stomach, legs splayed around it like a forgotten toy. Ghirahim rose to his feet, towering over the other Sheikah, who scuttled back. One raised a sickle, the other a demon carver, barking orders in their language. Ghirahim followed orders from one person and one person only, and the Sky Child had locked him away where he thought no one would ever find him. Foolish. Ghirahim would always find his Master, would raise him from the ashes of the Surface and the Sky, would make him a feast from the Sky Child’s blood and bone.

“Halt!” one Sheikah called, voice muffled by her mask, and Ghirahim quickly silenced her with a flick of his wrist and a shower of daggers, each ripping through her uniform like a burning knife through butter. Ghirahim grinned. It felt good to grin. It felt good to see the blood pooling, darkening her red uniform from crimson to rust, and it felt good to hear the gurgle of someone drowning in their own blood after who knew how long in that pit of nonexistence. He breathed in deeply. The smell of fear and blood and the Sheikah’s guts meeting air as they spilled across her feet was familiar and invigorating.

He was alive, and once he disposed of these protectors of Hylia he was going to track down Link and make him wish he’d left the Goddess’ Vessel to rot on the Surface and never came face to face with Ghirahim. Deafening him on his own screams, strangling him with his own small intestine—that was child’s play compared to what Ghirahim would do to him. They would invent new words just to describe the agony Ghirahim was going to carve into the man, would run out of ways to label the sounds Ghirahim would force from him.

The third Sheikah dropped their demon carver and scrambled back, shaking like an autumn leaf as they begged for—for something. Ghirahim couldn’t be bothered to care. They switched between language after language: Sheikah, some strange dialect of Hylian, then even older, darker languages that no pet of the Goddess would ever be permitted to learn. 

Interesting. But not interesting enough.

“Please—” The Sheikah said, their tongue stumbling as they tried to speak, “We mean you no—”

Ghirahim moved forward, lightning fast, and the Sheikah shrieked. They were surprisingly light as Ghirahim wrapped a metal hand around their throat and lifted, the pathetic creature kicking and wheezing as Ghirahim drew them to his face. They clawed at their neck, trying to pray Ghirahim’s fingers apart, and Ghirahim laughed, his voice shrill and loud.

“Where are they?” He hissed, face inches from the Sheikah’s mask.

“Wh—wh—”

“The Spirit Maiden, her dog, and the Hero. Where is Link?”

“It worked,” a voice behind them breathed. It was nasally, with a heavy Sheikah accent. “It worked!”

The second time they spoke, their voice shook with excitement, and Ghirahim bit back an annoyed snarl. He spun on his heels, and threw the sniveling creature in his hand at the speaker, who lunged out of the way. It was dressed differently than the three Sheikah who now lay bleeding and broken across the floor, its clothing more ornate and detailed, mask painted with greater care, with a wide stomach and short legs. The Sheikah bowed at the waist, his mask nearly brushing his knees, arms swept wide.

“Lord Ghirahim. A pleasure.”

Ghirahim fluttered his fingers, and the obsidian sword he was so fond of blinked into existence. A sword’s favorite sword.

“Wait!” The Sheikah hurried back to an upright position. “It would be a shame to die after going through all the effort to summon you,” he said, with surprisingly little fear in his voice. Hm.

Ghirahim raised his sword, pointing the blade down his arm towards the man’s girthy middle.

“Where is your Hero.” Despite the words, it was clear that this was a demand, not a question.

“That is a tricky question at the moment.” The Sheikah said. “Which one? I think we’re up to twelve now.”

“… What?”

“Please, Lord Ghirahim, sit. I’ll bring you a chair, and we can discuss this like civilized people over some banana chips. Footsoldier Ere—”

“On it, Master!”

Ghirahim lowered his blade. The Sheikah (master?) wasn’t a threat (couldn’t be a threat, not against the likes of him) and had proven to be interesting enough to earn himself a few extra seconds before Ghirahim sliced open his rather girthy middle. Ghirahim finally took the time to take in the room around him. Likely underground, given the rough-hewn stone walls, rocky ground, and wetness in the air. Slips of spell paper and magic charms littered hastily painted red walls. What appeared to be cheap, chalky paint made a ridiculously childish, yet detailed outline of the Gate of Time on the ground beneath where Ghirahim stood. The Sheikah Master stood at the head of the summoning gate, and at his feet was a tome, unlike anything Ghirahim had seen in a long, long time.

The Goddess of Time had stayed neutral in Demise’s war of glorious destruction, which, to the Demon God, might as well of been the same as pledging her undying support to the Goddess Hylia. The pathetic creature had been nothing compared to his Master, her insistence on never raising a finger in support of either side making it all too easy to grind her into the blood and gore of the very battle fields she ignored. After Demise had left her bruised and broken and bleeding, she had turned her back on the realm of the living entirely, retreating to the Sacred Realm to her older sisters, begging the Golden Three to hide her from the big, mean demons, as if her sniveling insistence of neutrality hadn’t brought it upon herself.

Ghirahim had found the idea of the Guardian of Time quaint. A full-grown goddess couldn’t handle the heat, so she, what, brought out a subordinate to watch the world for her? Go and lick her wounds in the Sacred Realm while some other, lesser lifeform did her job for her?

It was so pathetic that it was almost adorable.

Ghirahim never met the Time Guardian, not face to face, but he had seen her across the battlefield from her place of neutral observation, had felt the sheer magic that dripped from her pink and white robes, the divine power that soaked into the ground around her, the time magic so thick that it was palpable. She had carried such a tome in her hands, but that one had been shiny and new, the gold leaf glowing and ink still wet—this one was tarnished, powerful but pox-marked by time.

Hm.

“Where am I?” Ghirahim asked, narrowing his white eyes at the Sheikah man. He had taken a seat on a massive cushion with truly hideous yellow tassels provided by the other Sheikah— foot soldier, he had called her? The foot soldier placed an equally large eyesore in front of Ghirahim, who tilted his head and raised a brow. She flitted back in an awkward almost bow, coming to a stop behind the Sheikah man. Ghirahim pointedly did not sit, and the foot soldier fingered the demon carver on her hip, discomfort leaking off of her.

“Under the abandoned Yiga Clan Hideout.” The Sheikah man said around a mouthful of ‘banana’ chips, and Ghirahim couldn’t help his ears from perking.

Yiga. He knew that word. He might not rattle off stats and translations like his other half, but Ghirahim had been forged with the same wealth of knowledge as she had been—he had to be if he was going to be of any use to his Master. What use would Demise have for an imbecile as a first lieutenant? What kind of right hand would he be if he could not keep up with the enemy, could not prove himself to be leagues above the rest? So, when the Sheikah man used the word, Ghirahim knew its translation easily.

Yiga. Could be used as a noun, verb, or adjective, first used to describe the actions of the Sheikah who turned their back on Hylia in hopes of winning Demise’s favor. Instead, Demise had gifted Ghirahim the opportunity to dispose of them as he saw fit—after all, who wanted turncoats fighting on their side?

Yiga. Noun: An act of absolute betrayal. Verb: a treasonous action. Adjective: A traitor of the worst kind. Yiga Clan—

Quite literally, a clan of betrayal.

Interesting.

“The Hero thinks he’s finally disposed of us,” The foot soldier hissed, finally finding her voice, “Soft little moron.”

“It is unwise to underestimate your opponent,” Ghirahim said. “The Sky Child is many things, but soft is not one of them.” Soft. The word felt foul on Ghirahim’s tongue. He had thought Link soft once, stupid once, and look where it got him. Once beautiful form destroyed, left to rot in the nothing with only rage and hatred to keep him company. Was that how his Master felt, sealed away in the bastard’s sword? Angry, hating? Alone?

The foot soldier scoffed, and her master lazily swatted her; she mumbled an apology and sat, kneeling beside him with a silhouette that spoke more to adoration than obedience. The question was, was this man a teacher, a leader, or a slaver?

“I had quite the welcome party planned until you went any killed my subordinates. Oh well. One must crack a few eggs to make a fried banana.”

The footsoldier nodded sagely at her master’s words, tilting her mask up barely to expose a painted mouth and dark skin, and taking a bite of the dried banana slices she’d placed before the three of them. Ghirahim glanced at the three bodies around him. Blood still oozed from one, and its guts were beginning to stink. Oops.

“This isn’t the Sealed Grounds.” He said, and the Master nodded.

“No-pe, the Sealed Grounds have long since disappeared. Unfortunately, quite some, uh, time has passed since the Hero of the Skies sealed the Great Dark One away, but with that nifty little book we’ve managed to—”

“Make time our bitch!”

“Ere!” the man hissed, and the foot soldier—Ere—folded her arms.

“We’ve got the Eyes of Ganon, and Yuga, and all sorts of monsters,” She continued, leaning forward, “and now that we’ve got you, we’re unstoppable!”

Ghirahim bristled. “You don’t ‘got’ anything.”

“I just mean--!”

“What footsoldier Ere means,” her master interrupted, “is that I have a proposition that I feel you will be very interested in.”

Ghirahim flexed his fingers and in an instant his sword was back, eye level—mask level?—with the man, who, for his credit, didn’t even flinch.

“You bore me.”

“I know where Link is.” He said, sounding far too cocky for Ghirahim’s liking, and Ghirahim narrowed his eyes. He shifted his grip on the sword. The man could be lying, stalling for what—time? He had brought Ghirahim out of the nothing, that much was clear, but Ghirahim would rather cut out his own tongue than say thank you; those words were reserved for one being and it sure as hell wasn’t the pudgy man chowing down on banana chips in front of him. Frustration welled up and Ghirahim stamped it down. It would be so easy to send the point of his blade through that perfectly painted mask, to be done with this man and his pathetic subordinate, to end this conversation that sounded far too close to someone demanding his subjugation, but…

But if the man really knew where the Sky Child was, if Ghirahim didn’t have to go through all the pesky trouble of tracking down another one of Hylia’s pawns, if he could jump straight to utterly annihilating the boy instead of a wasteful chase… well, that would be ideal.

He didn’t lower his sword, and the man leaned forward till the tip poked the red eye of his pearly white mask.

“I can take you to him. All of them.”

“All of them?”

“A lot has changed since you were sealed away. Sit. Let’s talk like civilized creatures.”

Ghirahim glanced at himself in the reflection of the blade. Black, metallic skin, streaked with white veins of crystallized mineral. Beautiful, breathtaking—but not him. This body was the Goddess’ making, back when Hylia thought him a blade she could use for herself, nothing like the skin and hair he had created with Demise’s far more tempting gift: the freedom of choice. He grinned as the feeling of illusionary magic fluttered over him, skin growing over metal, white and creamy, delicate clothing melting into place, hair curling perfectly around his face. A picture of elegance. Perfection.

The foot soldier clapped excitedly, the Master whistling in appreciation. Ghirahim flipped his hair over his ear.

“I know. Not many get to see the creation of such flawlessness,” he said, twirling the sword over the back of a gloved hand. “Such elegance, fresh and free of cost. Many have killed for such a front-row seat.”

“I’m honored.”

“I could still kill you.”

“And have no one left to speak of the beauty I just witnessed? What a shame!”

“Surely you don’t think I’m that vain, do you?”

The man cocked his head and Ghirahim was sure he was grinning under the mask. “Of course not. Eat, eat, before my subordinate eats all the banana chips.”

Finally, Ghirahim sat. Ere took another handful of chips and her master swatted her hand away.

“Excuse me, I haven't introduced myself yet. I am the Big Banana of the Yiga Clan, the head honcho, the strong, brave, burly, ( and, frankly, extremely attractive) Master Kohga. But Master Big Banana Kohga will do.”

Ghirahim snorted. “I’m not calling you that.”

“Fine. Master—”

“I have only one Master, and you are not him,” Ghirahim spat, surprisingly himself with the intensity of the words. He’d meant to sound aloof, but it was hard to be put together when Demise was the topic of discussion. Demise—the need to be beside him burned inside Ghirahim, pulling at him. If he had organs, Ghirahim was sure they would ache, but instead the metal inside him boiled with need. His creator, his Master; Demise was everything, and Link would suffer like no Hylian, no, no living creature, had ever suffered before for taking him away from Ghirahim.  

“Very well. Kohga then.”

Beside him, the Sheikah—Yiga—foot soldier stiffened in horror at the thought of addressing Kohga as anything but his full title. “But Master!”

Kohga gave her what must have been a stern look behind his mask. Amazing how a masked man could be so expressive. “Not now, Ere.”

“Back to the business at hand,” Ghirahim said, “Link.”

“Link.” Kohga grit out, lifting his mask to spit on the ground, as if even saying the Sky Child’s name had been an ordeal. Disgusting. Ghirahim knew demons with better manners.

“You know where he is.”

“Where they all are.”

“The Spirit Maiden?”

“What? No, all the Links.”

Ghirahim steeled his face. He’d always been emotive, even back during the Sealing Wars, and millennium upon millennium alone on the Surface had given him the freedom to express himself as he so saw fit—but he was not about to give Kohga that power over him. Kohga laughed.

“You’ve been sealed away a long, long time, Lord Ghirahim. Can I call you Ghirahim? Ghira? I’ll call you Ghira.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Anyways, Ghira, I’d tell you the year, but I doubt that would mean much to you—it’s been hundreds of decum-millennia. Thousands of hundreds maybe—the exact time of the Era of Myth has been long lost, given it is, you know, considered myth.”

He paused and stuffed a mouthful of banana chips in his mouth. Ere mirrored him, and it would have been almost… quaint if it hadn’t been a couple of filthy Sheikah, even if they were supposedly traitors. The question, of course, was traitors to whom. Hylia? The Spirit Maiden? The girl’s disgustingly devoted dog of a protector?

Link?

Ghirahim held no love for turncoats. Honorless grifters, all of them.

(As if you weren't once one, a voice that sounded far too much like Fi whispered in his ear)

“Of course, given the vast knowledge of the Yiga, the years don’t really matter all that much. The Sheikah may be a lot of useless goody-two-shoes, but they certainly are great at bookkeeping!”

Ere nodded enthusiastically.

“When the Demon Demise was sealed away, the Hero—”

“—Did a shit job!”

“Yes, thank you, Ere, did a shit job. So, along comes Ganon, Ganondorf, whatever you want to call him, Demise's successor—"

Ghirahim felt something flutter inside him that, if he had one, he would call his heart skipping a beat. His Master, free? Sure, as some ridiculously named nobody, but still his Master, brought back some way or another.

“Take me to your ‘Ganon’,” Ghirahim hissed, leaning forward deep into Kohga’s personal space. The Sheikah didn’t even flinch—obnoxious little man.

“That’s the problem, eh? We can’t.”

Ghirahim grabbed a fistful of Kohga’s red uniform and jerked him forward, a dagger melting into existence in his hand and finding its home against Kogha’s neck. Ere yelped, rushing to her master’s side, but Kogha clicked his tongue at her and she froze.

“Unacceptable. Take. Me. To. Him.”

“Can’t. Link killed him.”

“You said millennia has passed. Link would be lucky to live past 90.”

“Each time Ganon returns, so does Hyrule’s precious Hero. Link. Over and over and over—”

Ghirahim jerked him back with a snarl. Link, brought back, after all these years? Constantly revived to what, rub Demise’s defeat in his face? Disgusting, revolting, utterly barbaric—didn’t he know how to leave well enough alone?

“But we’ve got the upper hand this time!” Kohga said with triumphant fervor, patting the tome he’d kept firmly at his side so far. “This bad boy! Time travel, summoning gates, necromancy, the whole shebang! With it, we can bring back every Ganon, every Demon King, heck, maybe even Demise itself, and the Hero—”

“Can’t do jack-shit!” Ere said, leaning forward for the book, which Kohga snatched away.

“Yeah, ‘can’t ’t do jackshit’.” He said. “We’ve connected with Ganon’s followers from across the timelines—”

Timelines? Plural?

“But, you know how the Gods are, all buddy-buddy with Their precious golden Hero, so They’ve gone and tried to beat us to the punch. Lined up a whole basket full of them.”

Ghirahim held up a hand. “Link—you’re telling me there’s more than one Hero?”

“Duh,” Kohga said. Ghirahim’s jaw twitched. “I think we’re up to twelve?”

Ere nodded. “Twelve.” 

Twelve… Link had been a thorn in his side, and that had just been one of him. Twelve? Never let it be said that Hylia did things in halves, he supposed. But Ghirahim had managed to resurrect Demise all by himself. He could handle more than more brat, surely.

Resurrect him for approximately 9 minutes and 47 seconds, a voice that sounded far too much like his second half whispered in his mind, which is a true and complete failure. The likelihood of bringing your Master back for even a minute longer is minuscule with a second Hero by Link’s side, and the chance of besting twelve alone is too low to compute.

Ghirahim grit his teeth. Was the little blue bitch still up and kicking with the other Links? Twelve… The Yiga leader was stupid, that much was clear. But they had mentioned allies, and Ghirahim, as much as he loathed to admit it, needed that.

“So. You summoned me to lead your armies?”

Ghirahim could feel Kohga’s eyeroll behind his mask and bristled at the man’s snort.

“No-pe, the Big Banana answers to nobody but Great Mr. Darkness Himself. Vaati, Yuga, the Eyes of Ganon, we’ve been divvying up forces, attacking from multiple timelines, keeping the group too splintered to move forward. You’ll join, of course, and be at my right hand and we’ll rip those little brats limb from limb. Ere has done a fantastic job outlining the timelines—thank you dear—”

The Yiga footsoldier preened under her master’s acknowledgment. “I’m good with numbers!” 

“She’s good with numbers.” Kohga echoed with a nod. “Anyways, what I’m saying is you have the honor of being the number one lackey to the Big Banana himself while we rip apart the Heroes and bring the Big Boss—es— back from the dead! And of course, once we do and I’m rewarded for my bravery, I’ll see that you’re congratulated as well. I’m sure we can get you a prize. Maybe a town to play with—do you enjoy politics, Ghira? You seem the type. Maybe  a—”

Kohga cut off with a gulp as Ghirahim’s hand wrapped around his thick neck. He dragged the Yiga closer till his beautifully curved nose was pressing against the smooth wood of the man’s mask. His hands may be softer in this form, cushioned with flesh, but the steel was still there under the false skin and stale blood, and Kohga’s neck creaked in his grasp. Kohga wheezed, one hand coming up to paw at Ghirahim’s iron grip.

“I am no one’s ‘second hand’, no one’s subservient, and sure as hell no one’s lackey,” He spat, “except to my Master and you, 'Mister Banana' are far from the terror and brilliance of Demise. You are a pot-bellied, self-absorbed idiot messing which magic he does not understand in the slightest—”

Kohga let out a full bodied wheeze, and Ghirahim realized with no short of furious confusion that the man was trying to laugh. The spirit’s mouth twisted into a snarl, and he grabbed hold of the strap holding Kohga’s mask—he wanted to see the man’s bulging eyes lose their light personally.

Kohga raised his hand, fingers splayed—was the man going to, what, slap him? One last stand that was just as laughable as he was?

Kohga made a fist, and Ghirahim realized it was a signal. Suddenly, the air grew thick, thick with magic, electric and bitter, like biting into the ozone. Ere yelled a word of Power and a wall of blue light formed in the sliver of space between Ghirahim and her master, and in a split second, it expanded, throwing Ghirahim back with a BANG and shaking the room, spell paper raining down like snowflakes. The light wall pressed down on him, pinning him flat against the wall, reeking of time magic, and Ere stood beside her master, arm outstretched and tome in hand. Her hand shook with the effort of the spell, but she radiated determination, and the spell book in her hand glowed with the signature blue light of divine magic.

“Now then,” Kohga said, rolling his neck, “I was really hoping we wouldn’t have to do it this way.”

The Yiga stood, and despite his short stature he suddenly seemed nine feet tall. He put his fists on his hips and cocked his head.

“I need a right hand. You are far more qualified than the painter or the tiny rat magician will ever be, and the Eyes of Ganon are practically all brainless monsters. I need someone intelligent. Dangerous. Capable. And you are going to be that. I didn’t go through all that effort of a resurrection spell to let you slip through my fingers, got that, Ghira?”

Ghirahim bared his fangs at him, and the man had the audacity to laugh.

“Very scary,” he said, nasally voice suddenly low and dark, and in that moment Ghirahim finally saw the master of a clan of traitors. “I’ve got it from here, sweet cheeks.” He said over his shoulder to Ere. “Go ready our guest’s room.”

“Upstairs or downstairs?”

“Depends on how he behaves. He can have the upstairs bed, or we’ll find him a nice, wet, dark spot in the mines. I’m sure for a demon, the Depths will feel just like home.”

“You’ve got some nerve—” Ghirahim hissed, and Kohga cocked his head, clearly rolling his eyes.

“Oh, shut up won’t you?” He took the tome from Ere and lazily flipped through the pages. He’d doggy ears the pages without a care and one he had turned with so little care that the page ripped. Ghirahim might hold no love for the Goddess of Time, but the tome was still a part of her divinity and should be treated as such.

The wall of light dispersed reforming into ribbons of glowing cyan as heavy as an ocean that clung tightly to Ghirahim. The pressure of light off of his nonexistent lungs was a blessing, replaced by bonds of a new kind. Ghirahim refused to struggle with the shackles in front of Kohga; he wasn’t going to look any weaker than he already did.

He could feel Kohga grin under his mask, and Ere offered an eager hand for a high five, which Kohga provided.

“So, tell me, Ghira, what’s it going to be? A nice bed upstairs and some fried bananas or shall I drop you down the Yiga Hideout Chasm to think some more?”

Ghirahim gave himself a moment to feel his anger, a moment for fury. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, taking in every shaking, raging emotion pounding in his metal chest before opening them and smiling. It was bright, dripping with cocky bravado, and he flicked his hair out of his eyes.

“So, you aren’t as useless as you seem,” He said pleasantly and Kohga puffed out his chest.

“Of course not. I’m not called the Big Banana for nothing!”

“Of course. I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. The years have left me jaded, I’m afraid.”

Kohga grabbed hold of Ghirahim’s bicep and pulled him to his feet.

“Shall we discuss the details of our arrangement over dinner?” Ghirahim said, all teeth and sweetness, “It has been a while since I’ve eaten, after all, and I’ve never had a—what did you call it? A banana? Before.”

Kohga slapped his back. “I knew you would see reason.”

Ghirahim grinned. In his mind’s eye, he was smashing Kohga’s head into the wall, slamming it over and over till the skull caved and Ghirahim’s elegant hands were red and pink and grey with brain matter. Instead, he shook out his hair and held himself tall, spine and shoulders loose and free of rage.

“Now, please, let us talk as friends.”

“I’d like that.”

By the door, Ere watched the two of them. Ghirahim’s eye settled on the girl’s mask, and she straightened. She flinched when his tongue snaked its way across his top lip.

“Master—”

“Not now, footsoldier, the adults are talking.”

Ere huffed and stomped out of the door, fists curled. Kohga clipped the tome to his belt.

Ghirahim liked lists, like ticking things off them. It made him feel productive, successful. In his brain he began his new list: get the tome. Kill Kohga. Then mutilate Link, his Link, and feed him to his own precious Zelda.

Then, bring his Master home.

Easy peasy.

---

A banana, it seemed, wasn’t actually a crunchy chip, but instead, a fruit that hadn’t existed back when Hylia first walked the earth, likely evolved from, if Ghirahim was to guess, something like a musa acuminata. Long and yellow, it resembled the musa’s short, stubby green curve and while it was softer and sweeter, with little to no seeds, Ghirahim could see the appeal. He’d never enjoyed eating—his Master hadn’t needed to, so Ghirahim didn’t, even if he technically could. The act made him feel too human, too mundane, nothing like the immortal opulence that came with being a sword spirit, regretfully forged by Hylia’s hand but recreated with grander splendor by Demise’s, so he made a point to never depend on food. After all, a sword was cared for best by the hands of its wilder, polished and prized best by the hands that reforged it and held it in battle—that was what Ghirahim needed, not some mushy fruit. But Ghirahim cut small bites of a battered, deep-fried, painfully mushy banana, face open and pleasant, and pretended to be engrossed in the story Kohga was telling.

Ghirahim was unsure if carving the man up with his sword would be more satisfying, or if he should beat the life out of him. Either way, it would be with the mask off. He wanted to see the fear in Kohga’s eyes, the blood bubble past his lips, the skin lose its warmth and pallor as his heart stopped. He wanted to feel Kohga’s pulse go still.

Ghirahim smiled and took another bite, fighting back a shudder at the revolting texture. The table was very low and filled with Yiga in red and white sitting on mats and cushions on the floor, as well as strange bat like creates in black hoods—the Eyes of Ganon—and two men, one tall, one short.

The tall one was covered in makeup, chalky pale face cream with bright red lip stain and dramatic eye powder, and his thick red ringlets were pulled back so tightly that his hairline had started to fade. His robes were elegant and brilliantly colored, and he looked at Ghirahim with suspicious disdain. Across from him, the smaller one was barely taller than a child, with chubby cheeks and long lilac hair. A scar cut across his face, and his robes were dark violet and purple, pulled tightly around him.

Both men reeked of magic, though distinctly different types—the tall one’s was old, otherworldly, bizarrely out of place, while the small’s magic smelled fresh and forest-like, a sweetness that didn’t match his scowl.

Yuga and Vaati, two sorcerers from two times, each with no love for their respective heroes and a determination to resurrect Ganon, though be it for power or revenge, Ghirahim didn’t know. Zant, Ghirahim had been informed, whoever the fuck that was, would be joining them soon, once he finished letting loose his stupid ‘shadow beasts’ to catch the scent of the hero—hero-es—Kohga was going to have them all track down.

Ghirahim’s new allies. Ghirahim would have scoffed if he could. He detested the idea of buddying up to anyone, but 12 heroes were too much even for the Demon Lord. At least the Eyes of Ganon looked like simpletons—monsters were never intelligent enough to hold their own opinions, making them easy to manipulate.

Vaati took a long sip from the cup in front of him. He hadn’t touched the meat that had been put on his plate, looking at it with near revulsion and dumping it to the side, instead digging into the fruits provided. A vegetarian. Ghirahim slotted the information away as something that might be useful in the future. The man clearly wasn’t human, but what he was Ghirahim wasn’t sure. He smelled of nature, of a clean, pure magic tainted by something distinctly powerful but not necessarily evil. Yuga felt human enough, though not Hylian, or Sheikah, so instead somehow something different. His magic felt almost Hylian, but twisted, shifted too far to the left to be quite right. He raised a hideous red eyebrow at Ghirahim’s lingering gaze, and Ghirahim smiled, all bright teeth and false enthusiasm.

Disgusting.

“So, Lord Ghirahim,” Yuga said “I’m sure you’ve been delighted to be returned to mortal form. The Big Banana has told us much about a sentient sword spirit. It seems the world grows stranger and stranger these days.”

Ghirahim bit back a scoff. ‘Mortal form’—there was nothing mortal about the beautiful glamour that made his body, nor the deadly metal underneath it. He would always be worlds about the bloody and beating hearts of the mortal men around him.

“Strange indeed, Yuga. I’m told you come from a world with your own Link?”

Yuga’s face darkened. “Yes. A filthy, hideous worm of a thing. Though, if Master Kohga is to be believed, you know more of Links than the rest of us.”

“The enemy of the first ever Link,” Vaati said. “Truly a feat there.”

“Don’t downplay yourself,” Ghirahim said amicably, and Kohga nodded.

“Ghira’s right—we all bare the scars of Hylia’s chosen brats, and we’ll all return them tenfold!”

“Here here!” Kohga’s little brat of a footsoldier called, raising her cup in a toast before lifting the corner of her mask and downing the ale.

Then the lights went out. Only for a moment, the oil lamps losing their flame before flickering back in full force, but in that time the air was dark, the air pressure became oppressive, heavy, like someone was baring down on Ghirahim’s shoulders. A whine broke through the air, then a strange cracking sound, like broken glass or a ruptured heart valve, and the light was back. Standing behind Yuga was a towering creature, eyes wide and fish-like, teeth needle-sharp, pallor unlike anything Ghirahim had seen. His clothes were ornate, ill fitting, though that might have been purposeful, and the darkness that radiated off the man smelled heavenly.

True darkness, not like the petty magic of Yuga or the nature-esc power of Vaati. Nighttime in a cup, doused over the man, creature, whatever’s head.  

“Ah, Zant,” Kohga yawned, stretching. “I take it your trip went well.”

Was he shackled too? This man, this monster, dripping in power—did Kohga have him on a chain as well? Or had he allowed himself to be subjugated like those two idiots?

“They were out of sight,” It, he? Zant? Rasped. “The Time Guardian took them from this plane. But they have returned.”

“Good, good.” Kohga said, running his fingers down the tome at his side. “Though, if they are moving so far from even your shadow beasts’ reach—well, then we must move faster.”

Yuga scoffed. “Let them get complacent. Let them get comfortable, lazy.”

Kohga��s eyes narrowed behind the mask; Ghirahim wasn’t sure how he could tell, but he did. “Did I ask for your opinion, Yuga? No, I don’t believe I did.”

“Good help,” Vaati said with a snort, “so hard to find these days.”

Crack

Kohga watched, almost bored, and the blade master smacked the side of Vaati’s small head hard with the hilt of his wind-cleaver. Ghirahim, were he another, weaker person, would have been concerned to see someone so tiny hit with such force. Ghirahim was not another, weaker person. He watched with lazy eyes, bringing his cup to his mouth to hide a smirk. ‘Good help’ indeed.

“You.” Zant hissed, thought Ghirahim thought that might just be his voice, “You’re new.”

“Our resident Demon Lord.” Kohga said, “his skills are impressive, his repertoire and reputation exquisite. He shall be a fine addition to the party.”

Zant was silent. He was massive, though Ghirahim wasn’t sure if it was his actual size or just his presence. Taller than the Sky Child, that was for sure. Did he have a Link of his own?

Ghirahim had always scoffed at the thought of allies, but-- but Ghirahim needed help, and this shadow creature looked far more useful than a bat monster or little flower child or haughty magician. This, this creature spoke of power, real power. Useful power. Power that Ghirahim could control, just given the time. And it seemed, with the rest of these idiots beside him, that he had plenty of time.

---

The desert of the Gerudo was different than the deserts of Lanayru. It stretched for miles, as far as the eye could see, with mighty cliffs decorated with Sheikah—no, Yiga—emblems. Ghirahim breathed in the night air. It was dusty and dry, and carried a chill, the heat of the day long gone. Kohga had said his own Hero had decimated the Yiga Hideout not too long ago, leaving them hiding underneath, in a cave system that led to the ‘Depths’ that Kohga enjoyed using as a threat so much. The little one, Vaati, seemed truly terrified of them, though he tried to hide his flinches at every mention of it. It was unsurprising. The man radiated earth and forest magics, bright and unwavering under the dark cap he bore. Regardless of what magics he claimed to fight with, what dark creatures he claimed to serve, under it all he was truly just some kind of frolicking forest creature. Though which kind, Ghirahim was unsure. The world had changed so much since he had been defeated—he wasn’t sure he even knew the name of the creature that Vaati was, deep under all that dark magic.

There was a looming presence behind him, silent but oppressive, and Ghirahim smirked. “Has anyone ever told you that you would make a fantastic primadona? Quite the stage presence.”

Behind him, Zant was silent. Ghirahim looked over his shoulder, his smile sharp and full of teeth.

“Come to join me?”

“You’re not like the others,” Zant said in that horridly raspy voice of his, and Ghirahim cocked his head.

“Oh?”

“They are weak. Mortal. Breakable.”

“And you are not?”

“I am the chosen of my God. They are beneath me.”

“God, ey? Then I suppose we are on more even footing that those… creatures.”

Zant said nothing, and Ghirahim didn’t bother to hide it when he rolled his eyes. He leaned backwards, resting his weight on his palms.

“The Yiga man says you are the first of us.” Zant said finally. His voice was like broken fingernails across sandpaper. “The one who raised a sword to the first Link. The first failure.”

“Need I remind you that had you not also failed, you would not be where you stand?” Ghirahim said, forcing the grit from his teeth and aggression from his voice. The creature could be of use, an ally made of stronger stuff than the weird woodland creature or the magician, one who he could model and shape into what Ghirahim needed to succeed, then dispose of at will. An ally, however brief and easily manipulated.

“My God will forgive my failures when I resurrect him and bring him the Hylian’s head.”

“And you plan to wait beside the Yiga for their permission to do so?”

Zant cocked his head. “And you do not?”

“No. No, I do not. I don’t need them to bring my Master back.”

“You think you can fight twelve heroes?” Zant said with a gravely strange noise that might have been a laugh. It was the closest to emotion Ghirahim had heard from him. “You could not even fight one.”

“Neither could you.”

Zant made a face that Ghirahim thought was supposed to be a frown.

“Then what is it you suppose?”

“We play along, for now, let Kohga have his fun. Then, when his guard is down, we take the tome for ourselves. Forget this ‘clan’ and their plans, simply rip the throats out of the heroes ourselves.”

“…We?”

Ghirahim patted the spot beside him. Zant lumbered over, needle like teeth over his bottom lip. The creature was ungainly, ungraceful, more a bolder than a man—creature, whatever-- but there was a secret flexibility to his step. Ghirahim suddenly wanted to see the thing fight, to observe and annotate how someone so large could hide such… contortion.

“So, this god of yours,” He said, and Zant’s face, to the best of Ghirahim‘s ability to read it, shuttered shut. “Is he the same Ganon as the rest?”

“He is above any pig beast or ‘demon’,” Zant said. His face had opened with surprising speed, his slitted, reptilian eyes bright—or as bright as a shadow could be. “His power is like no other. He brings with him the promise of a world righted in balance, with the small taking the power of the many. He gives and takes away. He is all-powerful, all-consuming, and he carried with him the promise of greatness.”

All powerful. All consuming. Carries with him the promise of greatness. Hm. Ghirahim could feel the start of a smile pulling on his lips. The awe, the devotion that clung to Zant’s words were familiar in their dedication. Did Ghirahim not know such a feeling, the complete devotion to another? The beauty to be found in ultimate power, the pleasure in all consuming majesty. The promise of a place at the feet of the greatest ruler the Surface had ever seen, the near ecstasy in seeing the planet’s ravishment at your own hand, a sword guided by the mightiest creature to have ever walked the earth… Demise was intoxicating, and his power was mesmerizing, and his might made him all too worthy to be worshiped like the Demon God he was.

If Zant’s half baked Ganon-whatever was even a thimbleful of the god Demise was then, well, maybe resurrection wasn’t such a bad idea. Maybe, the Yiga idiot’s plan had some merit. Regardless, Ghirahim knew what he planned to do, once he beheaded Kohga and took the tome. Eradicate his Link, and every one since, raise his Master and then, together, the two of them would obliterate this flawed timeline and remake it in their own image. Gone with Hylia’s lingering influence, with Links and heroes and spirit maidens. He was sure that Zant’s Ganon could be useful in achieving that, at least temporarily.

Zant and Kohga both spoke of the man (men? Creatures? Pigs?) in very different ways, the first with filthy reverence and the second with something almost unreadable, the meaning behind the flattering, adoring words hidden behind his white wooden mask.

Kohga, Ghirahim knew, must be a very good liar. A nasally, rude, self centered, and pathetically vain ass of a man, but a good liar. Who knew what hid behind that mask, what simmered in the man’s eyes as he spoke and planned and plotted.

Ghirahim was going to be sure the Yiga’s mask was off when Ghirahim ran him through. He wanted to see the man’s face, wanted to know if it was the same warm brown as Impa, his eyes the same piercing blood red.

Impa. The rage that built in his throat at the thought of Hylia's and the Spirit Maiden’s pitbull was a tightly tangled knot that he struggled to swallow. The Sheikah woman would be long dead by now. Probably lived a long life getting happy and fat while reveling in Demise’s defeat.

Bitch.

“Kohga spoke of ‘shadow beasts.’” Ghirahim said instead of dwelling further on the attack dog. “Explain.”

Zant snorted. “Watch yourself, spirit.”

“Explain. Please.” Ghirahim corrected, sarcasm thick in his drawl.

“When I was slaughtered without care by the Hero’s… companion, most of my minions fled or returned to their lesser, weaker forms. With my revival, I have begun…. Recollecting. Shadow beasts are the remnants of traitorous Twili, transformed into far more obedient beings. They are strong, cunning, and ideal trackers.”

“Twili?”

Zant cocked his head. “You really are the first of us, aren’t you?” He said, the softness of the words coming out as a hiss. “The kingdom of Hyrule, the Light Realm, Ganondorf—you know none of my own history. When Yuga speaks of Lorule, your eyes are dark, blank with understanding. You don’t smell the minish cap amongst us.”

“And you know so much of me?”

“No.” Zant said, cocking his head as if he hadn’t considered the reverse. “I know none.”

Ghirahim twisted to face him more, plastering on a grin. Ugh.

“Then, let’s learn,” Ghirahim said. Zant’s nonexistent nostrils flared. “After all, if we’re going to be friends shouldn’t we know more about each other?”

“Friends?”

Ghirahim’s jaw twinged from the size of the smile he forced, curling his lips over his sharp teeth to seem less threatening. “Why not? You, me, your God—we’ll see to it than no Link crosses this world alive ever again. As friends.”

---

Kogha’s fingers drummed on the table, a staccato beat that spoke of a remembered tune and not just anxious fidgeting. Zant had just finished his brooding explanation of what his shadow beasts—hulking, tentacle-esc monsters with inky skin and strange masks that filled the war room with a shuddering chill and occasional shrieks, leaving everyone but Zant, Ghirahim, and the Big Banana himself shivering—has tracked, not unlike some kind of Twili hunting hound. Because that’s what they were, what they had been: Twili. It felt good to put a name to whatever race of shadow that Zant was, and Ghirahim had mourned just how bland and empty the new, underground Yiga Hideout was, without a single book or scroll he could pour over to get some idea of what Twili even exactly meant. It was becoming increasingly clear that Ghirahim knew so much less of the world than those around him, especially the Yiga, who seemed to be the furthest in the timeline, whatever the ‘timeline’ even looked like. Those answers, the ones surrounding the movement of time and history could be found best in the Guardian of Time—Celia? Seriara? Cia? Whatever her name was?—‘s tome.

 The massive book taunted Ghirahim with its magic. Demise, when he resurrected him, would be ecstatic to have such a piece of magic gifted to him. Ghirahim just needed to actually get his hands on it first.

“They’re moving between time faster than we thought.” One of the hooded creatures, the leader of the Eyes of Ganon, rasped, and Kohga hmmed in acknowledgment.

“And you’re positive they are in this Hyrule, as we speak?” He said to Zant.

“My beasts are never wrong.”

“So you say,” Yuga said, dapping his rouged cheeks with a handkerchief with painstaking care. Zant narrowed his strange, otherworldly eyes. One of the shadow beasts that had taken to stalking around the room slunk behind Yuga, silent but impossibly fast, sticking its head over Yuga’s shoulder and growling. Yuga yelped, smearing rouge against the Twili beast’s mask, and Vaati snickered.

“Then we send out a hunting party,” Ghirahim said. He leaned back in his chair. This was pointless, all of it. They could easily teleport to where the heroes were and gut them; this whole ‘planning sesh’ was stupid. Demise never needed war councils like Kohga did. He simply swung Ghirahim and split as much blood as they could before dominating everything. Still, Kohga seemed to hold his spot at the head of the table like a leash on the people around him, the tome in his hand serving as the collar’s key. It made Ghirahim’s blood boil.

If Ghirahim let himself be honest, Kohga’s cockiness did more than incense him. It made him almost lonely.

He missed his Master. He missed his Master, his sharp tongue and hot touch and the vile, violent love that he reserved for Ghirahim and Ghirahim alone. Demise had liberated him from Hylia’s touch, shown him the light, so to speak, and still, Ghirahim had failed him at every turn. It was unacceptable. The knowledge of his ineptness stung, but not as much as Demise’s absence. Ghirahim wanted him by his side, needed to stand at his right hand. And if that tome was the way to get it, well, then Kohga would regret ever holding it above Ghirahim.

One thing at a time. First, the Sky Child and the Spirit Maiden. Then, the rest of the Links. Then, Kohga.

Then… then, returning his Master to his rightful place of power and control.

“A hunting party—fantastic! Ere will lead an exploratory assault--“

“Exploratory?” Ghirahim said, narrowing his eyes. “We know where they are. We get to gutting and decapitating now, and then we’re done with the lot by lunchtime tomorrow!”

The leader of the ugly Ganon Eye things shook its head rapidly, its cloak hood flopping around its glowing eyes. “Alive. We need ours alive. His blood must be fresh.”

Ghirahim rolled his eyes. “Alright. We kill the rest and let yours alive to wallow in misery.”

Kohga straightened as Vaati leaned forward. “It’s not that I don’t appreciate the bloodthirsty stuff, but the Eyes gotta point. There are more than just the Links at play. The Guardian of Time is meddling, meaning the Goddess of Time is on their side. If she is leaving behind her neutrality—”

“The Goddess of Time is a coward and a bitch,” Ghirahim drawled, and Vaati frowned.

“The Old Gods—”

“Are useless. My Master can, and will gladly, annihilate them once I—we—resurrect him.”

“When. As in later. He isn’t here, Ghirahim,meaning we cannot be dependent on him. Some dead, failure of a god—"

Ghirahim was up in an instant, grabbing Vaati by the clasp of his purple cloak.

“Watch your words, rat—”

“Make me,” Vaati hissed, “Your disrespect for the Divine will do nothing but hurt you. Do you think Link is our only enemy? If one Goddess is willing to intervene, why not all? Hylia? The Golden Three? And need I remind you that Link is merely one half of a pair? His princess is out there, one for each Link, and they are more powerful than you can imagine. The Light Force, the Life Force, the Triforce, whatever you want to call it, it is power in its most complete, inherent form. If you go against a Zelda, you will not survive!”

Ghirahim pulled his closer, nose to nose.

“I killed one, once. Fed her soul to my Master. I can do it again with my eyes closed.”

“Again, with Demise! For fuck’s sake, Ghirahim—”

“Boys, boys,” Kohga drawled. He waved a hand and a blade master untangled Vaati from Ghirahim’s hand, dumping the little man onto the ground with and ‘oof!’ and a puff of dust. “Ghirahim, if you need bloodshed so badly, you and Yuga can take to the ground with some Yiga—Ere?”

“At your service, Master Kohga!”

“Ensure that they play nice. We need information, to see what we’re up against, not to go all massacre-y.”

“Yup!”

Kohga patted his underling on the head, and she preened brightly under the attention. Ugh. Disgusting.

Kohga suddenly turned his attention to Ghirahim.

“This is not a massacre. Blood may be spilled—encouraged! —but I am not sending you out with the intent of you coming home with a dead body. Are we understanding one another?”

Ghirahim grit his teeth and allowed himself two seconds to fume. He was not a child. He was the right hand to the Demon God, the Great Demise himself. He would not be patronized by some idiot in a mask that had fruit for hanging off his ears! Then he smiled, all soft edges and sweetness, and nodded.

“Of course, Kohga. I cross my heart, I will not decapitate anyone.”

Kohga seemed to study him behind his mask, but finally leaned back in his chair, dumping his feet on the table.

“Then we’re understood?”

Ghirahim nodded, his smile widening. “Perfectly.”

---

Ghirahim watched the group from the pocked dimension that Yuga was so fond of. A hideous, pale likeness of his beauty sat painted across the wall of the outside of Slate—Ghirahim thought it was Slate, the whole name thing was proving to be far too confusing—‘s strange boxy town. Tarice Town? Terry Town? Something with a T. Ghirahim knew he likely should be paying more attention, but the bubbling excitement in his chest made it hard to concentrate. Because there, there Link was, surrounded by friends with Fi on his back, Ghirahim’s false partner well cared for under Link’s callused hands.

There were indeed twelve of them. Kohga’s Link, Slate or whatever, was short, his long hair messy and his sword arm a strange, glowing prosthetic that reminded Ghirahim of both the elegancy of the Sheikah’s time stones and the regal power of the Zonai’s creations. Walking beside him with a skip in their step was a colorfully dressed youngster, brown face dappled with vitiligo, and on the other side, a sunburned thing with a prosthetic leg and bleached hair long since damaged beyond repair by sun and sea. Wrapped tight in a cape was a girl with pink hair and a button nose, holding hands with a wallflower of a thing, the both of them watching an elegantly dressed young man speak with animated movements. Yuga growled at the sight of him. Ah, Yuga’s Link.

There was a child in some kind of uniform, goggles on her head and a bandana at her throat, and lagging behind, a tiny twig of a thing missing an eye. And finally, three men in front led the group, talking with a quiet seriousness: a soldier with a scarf as blue as his eyes, a man who smelled as strongly of dog as he did dark magic, and a man with a child in a blacksmith’s leathers on his shoulders.

Link.

Ghirahim’s heart lept at the sight of him. The Sky Child looked different. He’d aged elegantly, his lanky frame filling out into something soft and fat but still strong, his dumb, dopey eyes bright as he spoke to the two men around him. He didn’t wear his green tunic, instead dressed in silly combinations of layers and colors. Lichtenberg scars ran up his sword arm, across under his tunic, and up onto his neck and jaw, and the sight of them made Ghirahim smile. That must be his Master’s handiwork.

He hoped it still hurt, even all these years later. He hoped it was excruciating, and that every moment left awake, Link was miserable. He hoped the man lost sleep over it, scar burning even worse when thunderstorms lit up the Surface.

Yuga slunked out of the painting on the wall without a sound, just a flicker of rainbow color, and took a moment to dab at his face makeup with the pads of his fingertips—his vanity was obnoxious. Ghirahim would be the first to admit that he took a vocal pride in his own self-made skin but he didn’t cover his beauty in smelly, greasy paints and powders while too nervous that his complexion wasn’t grand enough to stand on its own. Ghirahim knew he was beautiful, knew he was stunning, and knew he didn’t need powder to secure that rightful pride. Besides, Ghirahim’s body was a work of art, self-formed and self-designed, a glamour created by his own hand, birthed from his own imagination and depth of creativity, instead of an obsessive attempt to perfect the flaws that Yuga undoubtfully carried, even with all that shit on his face.

“Lana wouldn’t send us in circles for no reason,” Blue scarf signed, and the other two older Link’s frowned. The child, clearly the youngest of the Link’s, pulled at Link’s hair, braiding the curly strands. “I promise, as flaky as she may seem, she is the Guardian of Time, and damn good at her job.”

“Mask doesn’t seem to have the same faith.” The dark one said with a raised brow, and Scarfy frowned.

“Mask is a deeply petty person.”

Dark one snorted. “I can see that.”

“Have you talked to him since…” Link glanced over his shoulder to the second smallest of the group, the one skulking in the back with the missing eye and colorful scars. “Since the last, uh, ‘time trip?”

Scarfy furrowed his perfect brows, signing something, but Ghirahim didn’t catch it.

Link had spoken.

Ghirahim had heard the man—a boy, then, really, just a boy, while this person in front of him was truly a man—make sounds of pain, of desperation, of rage, but never words, never syllables and phonemes, not like this Link. His voice was soft, light, gentle, and surprisingly deep, carrying a near-melodic lit to it.

Ghirahim wanted to know what it sounded like when the man was pleading for his life, begging for the pain to stop. He smiled as Yuga pulled him out of the graffiti on the wall, followed by five Yiga—three foot soldiers and two blade masters, with Ere taking the lead of the group. She was technically in charge of the six of them—seven, including her—but Ghirahim had no interest in some kid telling him what to do. Ere stretched, shaking out her hands, before rolling her neck and—melting?

Glamor flickered around her, red and spicy, with a crackle of magic and spell powder, and then in her spot was someone Ghirahim had never seen before. It wasn’t the Ere under the mask—that Ere had dark skin and thin, childlike lips while this woman before him had a full bottom lip, light brown skin flickered with freckles, and wide grey eyes. Her red-brown hair was braided on top of her head, and she wore the clothes of a traveler. Had Ghirahim not seen the transformation himself, he would never had connected the two.  

Ere spun, dipping into a bow, and the Yiga clapped, only to be quickly shushed by Yuga. Ere rolled her eyes.

“Watch the master in action.”

She shrunk into something pathetic and sniveling in an instant. Soon, she was ducking around the wall that had hid them, stumbling into the group of Link’s, tears running down her cheeks.

“Sir!” She squeaked, rushing to Scarfy’s side and grabbing his arm. “Please, I need help—my friend, we, we were racing just over the land bridge and her horse stumbled and fell on top of her and I’m not strong enough to move it and please, please your friends look strong, please—”

Scarfy nodded, giving Ere a soft, reassuring smile. “Of course we’ll help,” He signed, before turning to Dark. “Let the others know that—”

Behind them, Slate turned from where he was laughing with the teen missing a leg, curious as to why they had stopped moving. His eyes went wide as he saw Ere and Scarfy talking, the color draining from his scarred face. He shoved Peg Leg to the side, bolting towards Scarfy and Ere, but it was too little too late. One moment Ere was wiping grateful crocodile tears, and the next a demon carver was in his gut.

The chainmail under the man’s tunic kept him from being completely kabobbed, but only just, with the barbs in the massive blade crushing bone and mail alike, five spots of blood growing under each spike. The child on Link’s shoulders squealed, tumbling off Link’s back, and to his credit, Scarfy only stumbled back. Soldier indeed. He drew his sword, each movement darkening his tunic more, but his face was grave and determined. Dark and Link stepped in front of him, Dark’s back country sword as simple as the Master Sword was elegant.

It took no time for the other Links to slide down into varying stances, each armed—not a surprise, those Ghirahim hadn’t expected such variety in terms of blades. One, the cloaked girl with her bubblegum hair, didn’t wield a blade at all, relying instead on a Cane of Byrna. Huh. Ghirahim had thought that artifacts had been lost to time.

The remaining five Yiga took no time slipping into their own formation, which Ghirahim supposed made sense. They had dealt with Slate for years and knew the terrain the best. The instruction that Kohga had given was for Ghirahim and Yuga to follow the Yiga’s lead, especially Ere’s, but Ghirahim had no plan to. He took orders from one person, and one person only, and that person certainly wasn’t some Yiga girl.

Yuga vanished into the ground, slipping unnoticed through the grass and rock before popping up in the middle of the Link’s, spinning with his scepter and catching Slate in the gut. The teen went flying, straight into Rainbow, who let out a desperate cry as his sword—a distinctly magical thing—went skittering, right up to Ghirahim.

“Hm.” Ghirahim said, stepping on the blade. A shiver of magic ran up his leg. “This is quite the bit of illusion magic you’ve got there. Fun.”

Link spun. His eyes were wide, bulging in his skull, and his jaw was lax, terror written clear and clean across the flesh of his face. Ghriahim grinned.

“You’ve made friends, Sky Child. How quaint.”

Around Ghirahim and Link, metal clanged. A blade master had Peg Leg occupied, too busy protecting the disarmed Rainbow to keep an eye on his own six. Ere weaved with Slate, who had finally made his way to the front, cackling as her demon carver swung. There was a shout of glee as a foot solider’s arrow hit true into someone's side, and a grunt from Bubblegum and the mousy one as they were circled, surrounded. Yuga ripped into his own Link with as much as magic as his newly resurrected body could manage, sending anyone trying to help the man scrambling out of the way of the transformation magic. Dark had vanished, One Eye at Scarfy’s side, pressing down on his quickeningly darkening gut.

The chaos was a thing of beauty. Ghirahim had missed battlefields he realized as he breathed it all in. Blood, sweat, terror. It was intoxicating.

Link stood before him, thoughts clearly running wild behind his bright, terrified eyes.

“You’re dead,” He breathed. “I killed the both of you.”

Ghriahim grinned. “You did shit job, fortunately.”

Link charged with a sharp, furious sound, swinging Fi wide and hard, and Ghirahim dashed out of the way of the cut in a rain of diamonds, appearing behind Link, who spun, swiping down.

“You’re slow. Out of practice. When’s the last time you’ve wielded her weight?”

“Shut up.”

“Did you really think you could go again, after all these years, old man?”

“Shut up!”

If there was one thing Link was, it was tenacious. He chased each blow, each slice, with another, refusing to pause even for a moment. But Link was Hylian, with mortal lungs and muscles and heart, unlike Ghirahim’s metal chest. While Ghirahim could technically tire, could bleed, could be hurt, his body was made of far greater stuff than Link’s. Link was flagging, slowing, and Ghirahim, of course, was not.

There was a flicker of diamond in the air, as Ghirahim and the obsidian blade in his hand wove in and out of Link’s own swings with ease. Fi sang with hate and desperation when her blade met his own, and her distress each time Ghirahim landed a blow was intoxicating.

Link stumbled back, chest heaving, sword arm red and flowing, and Ghirahim couldn’t hold back a giggle.

“Retreat,” A heavy Sheikah—Yiga—accent breathed in his ear. Ere’s breath tickled as she flipped her demon carver around the back of her hand.

Someone across the battlefield, Slate, lay face down, still. Ere seemed to vibrate with glee at the sight of the red leaking from him.

“We have more than enough info to go off of. Let’s go, while we still have the upper hand.”

Ghirahim glanced around the battlefield, at the gore painting the grass. Upper hand indeed. But Ghirahim didn’t care about that. He wasn’t here to cut up the Links a bit. He was here to exterminate them, annihilate them, starting with his own.

“No,” he grit out, and Ere spluttered.

“No?”

“Take the painter and your lackeys. I know what I’m doing.”

“Ghira!”

Link righted himself, spurred on by their conversation, mouth twisted into a snarl. He charged, and Ghirahim ducked under his exposed right arm—sloppy, sloppy, so sloppy—and his blade sank in between Link’s ribs like a hot knife through warm butter.

Link’s eyes bulged.

“Sky!”

Someone was yelling-- Rainbow, who charged forward regardless of his missing sword, slamming into Ghirahim’s side. The kid was surprisingly strong, but Ghirahim was made of metal. He didn’t sway to children. Ghirahim batted Rainbow aside, turning back to Link. Slowly, he drew his blade free from Link’s ribcage, marveling at the wet squelch. Still, Link, swaying but determined, attempted to hold up Fi. His hand shook, red and slick, and Ghirahim laughed.

“Fall back, Ghira—” Ere shouted, rounding up her men, but Ghirahim waved her off.

“I had expected better,” He nearly sang as Link wheezed, lips bloody. “I’m disappointed.”

Somehow, somehow, Link managed to swing the Master Sword; the movement was weak, pathetically so, and it was easy to bat the sword to the side, sending it clattering to the stone below. Link was close enough to touch—Ghirahim grabbed hold of his wrist and pulled him close against his chest. The touch, the heat, the smell of his blood was intoxicating.

“Let him go.” Rainbow wheezed, pulling himself to his feet, and Ghirahim’s blade found Link’s throat.

“Ghira, that is enough!” Ere was talking, her blade masters beginning to circle him, but Ghirahim couldn’t care less. “We had our orders!”

Link’s breath hitched as pin pricks of blood dripped down his neck.

“Tell me, boy,” Ghriahim purred as Rainbow looked up at him with panic in his eyes. “Have you ever seen a decapitation? Heard someone drowning in their own blood? The trick is to cut through slowly, avoiding the brain stem as you do so. You want them aware enough to feel it, after all.”

Rainbow swallowed, eyes wide as saucers.

“You don’t have to do this—” He started, taking a slow step forward.

Ghirahim made his first cut.

Ghirahim would give Link this, he was managing to stay surprisingly quiet, breath coming out of the slash in his throat in bloody bubbles. Oh well. That wouldn’t last long.

Suddenly, something grey and massive slammed into them—a dog? No, a wolf, massive and furious, its teeth gnashing for Ghirahim’s throat, ripping through glamor flesh and exposing the metal below. Ghirahim gasped, the weight of the animal near impossible, and it took surprising strength to anchor himself as the beast took his throat in its mouth. Ere's blade masters slid an arm under each of Ghirahim's arms and pulled him out from under it. The wolf lunged to them instead, teeth black and oily. Ere yelled something as a blade master went down, but Ghirahim couldn’t hear it over the surprised ringing in his ears. There was a flash of blue—a time gate.

Link’s collapsed body was the last thing Ghirahim saw before the time and space magic wrapped him up in its cocoon, yanking him from this plane and back, back, back, back underground to the Yiga’s pathetic little hideout. Ghirahim coughed, feeling his neck and the shredded flesh there, as Ere loomed above him.

“What,” she spat, “Is it about following orders do you not understand?”

Ghirahim wasn’t listening. No, he was too busy feeling Link’s hot blood on his hands, smearing it into the holes on his own throat, and knowing at that moment that he would do more than kill the Sky Child and his friends: Ghirahim was going to destroy them, completely and utterly, their stupid fucking dog included.

#heroes gate #zelda au #links meet au #links meet #legend of zelda au #loz au #hg ghirahim

[glowyskull]

How mlady would get along w all the LU fellas 🥺🥺🥺 and anything else rolling around in ur brain ilysm

Ok, look

Hear me out

Nyru is just me simping for one of my fave franchises and pouring traumas into her (as one does w ocs)…, I very much will give her a poly relationship w the chain, anyone in Hyrule and any ocs you guys throw my way because I can

I have fun with ships so she gets all of them

Koridai? She’s dating. Dink? Yup. Ganon? Him too. She’s dating your oc. She’s dating you and you don’t even know it. (/j)

Nyru genuinely is just me having fun without worrying if it’s cringe or not

Why am I clarifying this? To justify her relationship w everyone being “she loves him”…

Shared traits? Will kiss everyone’s scars and will scold if they’re reckless (often) and/or refuse to be healed.

Time: Man is roughed up but he’s not always completely stoic. Nyru? She’s into that shit. She probs tried to heal the scar on his eye (and failed… and cried). She’s especially soft w Time. She likes to keep him company, be it in silence or rambling about something. Lil gremlin follows around tired gremlin. I like to think they can joke around and that makes her feel close to him. Poly ship w Malon? Hell yeah.

Twilight: The man, the lad. First Link she met so, first Link she gets comfortable around. Always manages to steal his pelt, it’s just comforting (and funny) to her. Will hold his hand and do the arm swing thingy while walking. Will scratch his head in hopes of getting the dog leg movement. The accent has her on the floor. Probs the one she talks to the most. Loves to pet and cuddle wolfie and died of embarrassment when she found out it was Twi.

Legend: Rat man. Nyru doesn’t mind his snarky attitude (though sometimes comments may hurt) and can actually have playful banter, but for the most part, she lets it slide. She likes to talk and ask him about magic. Likes to get him flustered. Any soft moments with him are greatly treasured.

Warriors: Wary of him at first. Military man? Can’t be good… but he is. Pretty boy gets her flustered. All over him for his field medic training. They share tips. He’s probs the one that can teach her small things to keep herself safe if there’s a fight. Probs bond over soldiers betraying them/being shit.

Wild: As the most prone to injury, Nyru is all over him all the time, asking him to stop being reckless... but will most likely join him on shield surfing and be equally reckless. Nyru is an ok cook, she likes to sit by him and learn. Especially potion making. Man can’t leave the pot unattended, she’s throwing random shit in there to make things (mostly dubious in nature). Will try to braid his hair.

Hyrule: Healing magic? All over him. Asking how he does it, how it works. Probs share lots of talks. Likes to go exploring with him as long as it’s not deep in a cave… she probs tried to pretend it was totes ok the first time… until they ran into a skulltula… Rulie had to fight it w Nyru clinging to him and crying. Probs bond over fairies.

Sky: Cliche? Probably. Do I care? No. Absolute cuddle buddies. Seeks him out for it. Nyru doesn’t have great stamina either, so she hangs back with him. Finds out he just jumped off sky islands? Why, how, teach me. The group pillows. Both kind but scary when pissed (though Sky can do more damage).

Wind: They pull pranks together. A weird mix of big sister yet also kinda parental? He probs also finds funny just how easily she can pickpocket things. They see how many things they can take from the others before getting caught (tho they probs don’t mess with Time’s or Legend’s stuff cuz that’s scary) Two gremlins.

Four: Man works with fire and metal, she probs finds that scary but fascinating. Though he’s a very skilled blacksmith, she’s still fussing over checking him for burns. Probs the braincell for her too.

#glowy talks #nyru #im not a writer so idk if it makes sense #but it was fun #ilysm <3

[science-lings]

It’s smooth brained to portray the LU links relationships as just Time is dad and everyone else is son. Boring unoriginal inaccurate. It’s really just a big hilarious mess.

Warriors is Times father figure and Wind is his older brother, Wild was his babysitter older brother figure during a crossover apocalypse, Legend was likely Hyrules hero who knows that the hero before him died at like nine, who is Time and he knows who it is, we all know about Twi and Times bloodline, but there’s also the theory that Wild is also from that bloodline and he has his ancestor as his dog that’s a little too enthusiastic to kill and also die for him.

There’s also Legend and the Four swords temple so that’s fucked up. Sky started all of this mess and kinda feels responsible for everyone but he’s also a natural mom friend. Also Wild has the potential to know about all of them bc he’s from a combined future and I’m an amiibo truther so I think he ends up with some of their stuff and a little bit of knowledge about them which he thinks is weird when he meets them.

Basically Wind has traveled through the most timelines and met the most Links pre-LU (Twilight, Wild, and Time in SSBB and SSBU) and (Warriors and Time again in HW)

Anyway let their relationships be messy and complex sometimes. Please. It’s funny.

#this isn’t even including the overlooked canon interactions like how Legend and Wild are completely incompatible travel buddies #and how most of them actively looked through a bunch of legends things after he told them not too #like the ones you’d least expect to participate are the ones you see do it #like I’m pretty sure four starts trying on one of legends hats #linked universe #lu time #lu wind #lu warriors #lu wild #lu sky #lu four #lu twilight #lu legend #lu hyrule

[raviosrupees]

LINKED UNIVERSE ZOMBIESS

woooft hey friends, its been a while but LU never left my brain or my heart and i stumbled across a very interesting idea

Zombie Apocalypse AU for Linked Universe.

It could either be modern world or in their world, personally I like the modern world, it offers a lot of interesting tropes.

So minor CW for mention of hospitals, zombies, potential gore, guns and violence, all the stuff that comes with zombie apocalypses, ya know? :P

Hyrule I see being one of the ones closest to the outbreak when it happens, so he's been in survival mode for a while. He's eating anything edible he comes across. Old moldy fruit, dog kibble and water still in toilets are all on his menu. He never stays in any area for long, and often travels through the wilderness from town to town. Extremely skittish, doesn't trust anyone.

Wild woke up in a hospital after being in a coma for a while, and was just completely out of it, barely remembers a thing, and wakes up in a completely empty hospital. Since he basically had no real recovery period, he just goes absolutely feral from day one. Has secret worries he's actually a zombie.

Time works an office job, and has been beaten down with the stresses of modern life for a while now, and as soon as the outbreak happened he left work and headed to his nephews ranch out in Ordon. He feels a bit guilty for relishing in the freedom of it all, how he doesnt have to go to work everyday. Exhausted from trying to keep all these kids alive.

Twilight is out in the middle of nowhere, on his ranch, and wouldn't have even known there was an apocalypse until his uncle came over. Generally completely at peace with the whole thing, with some concern for loved ones, but passive. Until dem blasted zombers went for his goats. Adopts all the stray pets that no longer had homes and takes care of them. Has a full backup generator.

Sky seems like just a silly guy who bumbled his way to safety. Really good at helping the others open up and talk through their issues. When it comes to hand to hand combat though he takes the zombies down easily, and always comes through without a scratch. He's the guy that you'd think would be harmless but is actually a beast. Can tell when danger is coming by reading the signals wild birds give.

Four is an exhausted mechanic, the voice of reason, and is very excited to get to use their skills for more interesting things, ie. hotwiring cars, making bullets, and the creation and repair of other such weapons. Hard to keep track of, has a tendency to disappear and reappear like nothing happened.

Legend is a full on apocalypse prepper. There is nothing you can do to convince me otherwise. His uncle was also a knight/military man, so I think of Legend as a kind of begrudging army brat. He's got the full army bunker with floor to ceiling shelves of medicine, canned food, water bottles, and likely a lot of firearms. Legend strikes me as pretty trigger happy, he's also super paranoid and doesn't really want to share with anyone. Has to be coaxed out of his super secure storm cellar. More scared of losing anyone he tries to protect that anything. Give us more redneck conspiracy theorist comic relief legend.

Warriors is a former military man who lost his squadron in the outbreak and now will do anything to keep his new family alive. He joined military school really young, and it kind of messed him up because it hadn't been what he wanted, so he's really protective of Wind. Always feels insanely bad about killing the zombies, because he still sees them as people.

Wind is a feral child, who said fuck middle school and all this, stole some knives and set off. He's hell bent on finding his sister who ended up at one of the refugee camps. Really good at swiping stuff off other people. Doesn't trust anyone besides War. Helps Legend makes maps of the areas around them, devises neat traps to kill zombies. Surprisingly cold blooded when fighting.

BONUS: They find Ravio after they found themselves in need of supplies and Legend is like, "I know a guy" and takes them to an outpost sort of place where Ravio has a little shop tent set up. Super sleazy, salesman chatting them up for a couple extra caps. Legend is really good at bargaining.

#linked universe #zombie au #sky is a sweetie #and kind of scary #should i write this? #linked universe time #linked universe twilight #linked universe wind #ravio writes <3 #linked universe wild #linked universe hyrule #linked universe warriors #linked universe four #linked universe sky #linked universe ravio #zombie apocalypse linked universe #linked universe legend

[bokettochild]

with my father's funeral today and your perchance to write excellent "Wars/Time/Sky going dad", felt like telling you about a rather fitting song for any of the Link-Dads (although im mostly focusing on Sky and Legend)

it's called "My Father's Eyes" by Eric Clapton. he wrote it as his whole life, he never met his father. one lyric from it "I feel like a bridge that was washed away. My foundations were made of clay" made me think of Legend and how although he had his uncle, you do have part of him longing to have had parents at some point. knowing they love you helps, but it's quite different when they're gone forever

trust me, i know

another fitting line was "As my soul, slides down to die, how did I lose him, what did i try? Bit by bit, I've realized. That he was here with me, I looked into my father's eyes." it reminded me of when Legend realizes that Sky is pretty much his dad now. even though he never had his father, he looked up and saw him in Sky

it's a great song, my dad loved it

I'm sorry I didn't get to this over the weekend when you sent it, but as soon as I could, i sat down and listened to the song.

I don't know why or how I came out writing what I did, but I hope it helps at least a little (I think you were asking for a story? Sorry if I read this wrong)

Anyways, my brain's been trapped by the last update, and the song made me listen to other similar ones and I got this

Midnight Skies

Legend won’t lie and say he doesn’t feel jealous when, the moment they arrive at Hyrule castle, Four runs and jumps into the arms of the first knight they see. Not that he’d freely admit to said jealousy though as it churns in his gut when the man swings their smallest hero around with a deep laugh before settling small feet again to the earth and ruffling already mused and messy blonde hair. Height aside, there’s enough resemblance; something in the eyes and the set of the jaw, that leaves no doubt as to the fact that the armored soldier is their smithy’s father. 

And doesn’t that just sting. 

He’s pretty sure he doesn’t let on anything over dinner, as not one but two men sit to their smithy’s side, father and grandfather all too eager to hear how their boy has been, egging stories out of the heroes and sharing some of their own. All while Four groans into the table and tries, desperately, to discredit all present and deny any and all accusations. Legend manages, somehow, to smile and laugh along, all while something dark twists inside his gut, hating the smithy for the way the other hero groans and complains about father and grandfather both. 

As if he isn’t the luckiest one among them to have both. 

Time’s father was a tree, or so the joke goes. 

Twilight was raised by a whole village, the local blacksmith taking primary care of teaching him as he grew up, but even then, the relationship isn’t exactly father and son. 

Warriors keeps any word of family held close to his chest, but the brief mentions in past imply that any father he knew was distant and typically drunk. 

Wild doesn’t remember being a kid, much less having a family. 

Wind was raised by his grandmother. 

Hyrule’s father was gone before he was ever born. 

Sky was an orphan raised in the academy by the elderly housekeeper and her husband. 

And well, Legend had his uncle. For all of eight years before Ganon’s knights killed the man in a sewer beneath the castle. And even after the triforce brought him back, the man was... different. 

It hurt. 

Four’s father is warm. And when the smithy splits, four persons now rather than one, all are greeted by color and treated with fondness. 

Uncle could never understand why he’d changed. Why the little boy who had wanted to run an orchard and live in the country would suddenly wake up crying most nights. Why warm hugs were fought off in panic. He’d been startled when Legend couldn’t stand to so much look at a dog, never mind pet one. There’d been endless confusion, and on some nights, he’d overheard Uncle talking with the Elder’s wife. She’d come up to check on them, on him specifically, but they’d both thought he was asleep. He wishes he had been. He'd never have heard Uncle admit he didn’t know how to handle him anymore. He'd never have heard the man call him a stranger. 

Legend had set out the next day, claiming to visit Zelda.  

A visit turned into a plea for anything to get him out, which itself turned to a mission to Holodrum to find Din. 

Some days, he regrets having left. 

The house was empty when he came home. He’s still not exactly sure what happened, and he couldn’t bear to ask, but he hopes, wherever he went, that Uncle’s life got easier without him. 

Sometimes he wishes he’d fought back the screaming of his mind and just allowed strong arms to wrap around him one last time. Wishes he’d hid it better. Realistically, at nine years old, there was no way to hide the demons in his mind. Not while living in a little one room cottage. Not when Uncle stayed up late anyways, or late for Legend anyway. Now, nine o’clock hardly seems late at all, especially when sleep evades him so often, but back then, it’d seemed so very late indeed, especially in winter. 

Sometimes, when Warriors takes out his pipe or someone cleans their sword, he can almost smell the heavy tobacco and sword grease scent the old knight always carried on him. Even now, sitting in Four’s house, the smell is everywhere. Grandpa Smith smells just like him, and doesn’t that just rub it all in deeper? Doesn’t watching the little touches, the hands on shoulders, the hair ruffles, the slaps of the back that nearly send the smithy flying, just make his heart scream and fists clench with the desperate urge to punch the smithy in his smiling face. 

Four just had to have it all, didn’t he? And the smithy doesn’t even realize it. 

Legend excuses himself as soon as dinner is over. 

He doesn’t make a big deal about it, is careful to smile and duck out when the others are all talking. It’s just all too much to stand and watch, and it hurts a part of him that he thought he’d numbed ages ago. So, the moment he gets out, a breathe of relief escapes into the night air around him. 

He’s fine. 

No really, he is. He’s fine. 

Gnarled fingers catch old wood. The roof over the forge isn’t low, but it’s lower than the one in the house, and with the slope of it, so common in add-ons, it’s easy to hoist himself up onto the thatching, to settle back against weathered straw and stare up at the skies. 

The night is a cool one, but any breeze there is exists in only a whisper, and he manages to not shiver against it as he lays, tracing constellations and finding long familiar ones. 

Well, until he remembers how Uncle had been the one who’d taught him how to find them, then it’s ruined. 

He’s not mad, he really isn’t. 

But it does hurt. 

It hurts like finding his parent’s house. Like knowing they were alive for years, that they weren’t dead like everyone said, or at least not when they’d said it. They’d been out there; lost, but thinking of him, and if he’d only come sooner, set out instead of lingering, innocent and clueless at home with Uncle, he might have had a chance to meet them. 

Legend pushes himself up, arms wrapping around his knees as he stares to the stoney path that leads to the forge door. 

Did he have his mother’s eyes? Before the dark world’s transformations changed their color for good? Did he get the pretty crystal blue from her? His father? Zelda has the same color as he used to; which parent did she get it from? They’re almost each others’ reflections, past scars and pain, the streaks of silver in her hair and the creases beneath his eyes. Life hasn’t been kind to either of them, but they had each other. 

He wishes they’d had more. 

He hasn’t been around as much as he wishes, but they’ve sat up and talked about it once or twice. What were they like- Zelda once mused into his arms- their parents? Was their father tall? Was their mother pretty? Do they have his nose? Which one had slender hands? Which one did the two of them get their sharp ears from? Who was the strong one? 

And when the sun had set lower, and it’d been too dark in the keep for them to see each other anymore: would they have loved them? Would they be proud? Would their parents have looked at what they’ve done with their lives and smile? Would they be sad? 

He’d never said it, kept it close, but tonight, staring up at the sky, Legend wonders if they would have understood. 

Or maybe they would have been like Uncle, and the fate that got its claws into their children would have made them turn away in despair as well. 

His throat hurts. 

“Legend?”  

The voice is soft, but it makes him start all the same. He hadn’t heard the door open at all, but there’s a shadow on the path below, framed in the light from the open cottage door. 

Quickly, he runs a sleeve over his face. He hasn’t cried in a long time, but he checks just to be sure. After all, you can never be too cautious around other people. Especially adults. 

“Vet?” the voice repeats, a tick of concern in it. 

For a moment he debates just waiting for them to go in again and give up. He’s tired of people, and he doesn’t want to deal with whomever it is. He thinks it’s Twilight, that or Warriors, because the voice isn’t rough enough for Time, and the shadow is too tall for anyone else. 

But after the time on the road that they’ve had, after he’s scolded Wild and Hyrule both for wandering off so often, he doesn’t exactly have the right to let the others worry. Not when he’s scolded so much for them doing the same. 

“Up here,” it’s more sigh than call, drawn out reluctantly as he hunches forwards a bit further, chin settling on his folded arms. 

The shadow on the path shifts. There’s the sound of everyone in the house still laughing and talking, but it fades as the door falls shut, the light and thus the shadow below disappearing with the noise. 

He breathes again. They went in. He’s alone again. 

He kind of wishes he wasn’t. 

“You alright?” 

So, he isn’t? Legend straightens, looking down below the thatching and catching sight of sideswept bangs and dark eyes. Twilight’s stare is shadowed, by his hair, the light, and some emotion the veteran can’t name, but it’s intense. If he hadn’t been fixed by it so many times before, it would make Legend squirm. It doesn’t though. He’s had the rancher up his tail enough before to be used to his stare. Scolding him for bullying Sky (he’d just been frustrated, but who even cared really?) for snarking back, or teasing Time. Twilight’s stare was on him almost the whole time he got turned into a rabbit, and while it wasn’t nearly as stern, it held a similar weight. Now it’s more similar to the night after that horrid battle with the shadow. Twilight’s eyes aren’t harsh or accusing, but there’s something warm in them for the brief moment he can see them before the man disappears beneath the awning. 

Callused hands catch the beam at the edge of the rood, and it’s only a moment or so before the rancher is swinging up in front of him, puffing and grinning crookedly as midnight blue eyes catch his own. “Up for some company?” 

He shrugs, but motions to the roof around him, settling further into his slump. 

Twilight’s smile fades into a frown in moments. “Something bothering you?” 

He shakes his head. 

Dark brows draw low as the rancher swings up fully, crawling across the roof before settling at his side, heavy eyes fixed on him all the while. “What’s eating you?” 

“Nothing,” he mumbles into his arms, but even as he says it, he knows Twilight won’t believe him. 

The rancher’s hand lifts from the roof, hovering between them, uncertain. 

Legend turns his stare back to the path below them. “’m just tired, rancher. ‘s fine.” 

Heavy eyes scream disbelief more than words bother to utter. 

Legend shifts, curling a bit tighter and setting his jaw, gaze fixing on the ground below. If he doesn’t look, Twilight’s pained stare can’t make him talk. If he doesn’t move, maybe Twilight too will give up and just walk away. It would make trying to sort his head out easier. 

“Ledge, hey, talk to me.” 

The rancher’s voice is so soft it physically hurts. 

“You’ve been tense all evening, bunny-” 

And that is just the breaking point because that’s Uncle’s pet name for him! He can’t help the way he turns, scowling, ready to hiss that Twilight cannot call him that, only to pause as predicted at the man’s heavy stare. Twilight looks all so familiarly pained, like he does when Wild’s struggling with his memories or Time’s being especially harsh. He’s never seen it directed at him though. 

He's not sure what to do with it. 

Dark hair sweeps forwards as the older man shifts, leaning against his own raised legs to mimic the veteran’s pose, stare heavy and seeking, but not expectant. “Did something happen?” 

It takes a moment for him to remember to respond, but when he does he shakes his head quickly. Breaking eye contact helps, and he drops his gaze back to the path below, chin settling in the folds of his sleeves to stop him glancing back. 

“Well somethings eating you.” 

Not anything that’s the rancher’s business though. 

“You’re not normally this quiet.” 

That earns a look. A scowl that has Twilight chuckling, deep and throaty, shoulders shaking as the man turns glittering eyes back to the path.  

Legend follows his gaze. There's nothing down there, but at least it’s something to look at. He needs that; if his mind doesn’t settle on something he just knows his thoughts will spiral out to places even he doesn’t recognize. 

It’s quiet for a moment, only the deep sounds of Twilight’s breathing and the rustle of trees filling the air around them, and despite himself, Legend tunes himself to their sound, matching the rancher’s breath with his own until his heart slows a little in his chest and some of the knot that’s curled there loosens. It’s only then, as he matches the pace of the other, that Twilight breaks it to speak.  

“Almost makes me miss home.” 

“Ordon?” He’s not sure why he asked. 

The rancher nods. “Yeah.” There’s another little chuckle, the shaking of the rancher’s head as he moves to lean back against his arms, eyes drifting upwards towards the sky. Legend tracks his stare, turned upwards to the Ancient Beast; the stars of its eyes twinkling extra bright against the expanse, as it stares down as though to meet it’s match. He huffs a little at the thought, silent, and turns back to stare at the path below them. 

There’s a few stones missing on the left side, cracked and overgrown on the right. 

It needs repair. 

“I’ll bet Uli’s singing the baby to sleep right now,” the rancher muses, smile fond and lonesome. “Colin will have drifted off ages ago, and Rusl is probably still out in the forge, getting the last of the fall work done before the snow sets in.” The man hums, rolling his shoulders. “Goat kids’ll be nearly grown about now, ready for slaughter.” 

Legend winces, and it earns another laugh from the man as sparkling eyes turn down to him again, grin still present but all too aware. “How about you? What will it be like at home for you?” 

He debates answering, before at least deciding it’s not worth it to let Twi keep pushing. “The trees are probably ready for harvest. Orchard will be all full of fallen fruit right about now.” 

“And?” the other man prods. 

The veteran shrugs. “Fields are probably being cleared. I dunno, I’m not a farmer.” 

“What is your family probably doing?” 

Something sharp and bitter inside whispers ‘lying in graves’ but he keeps that to himself, instead answering “don’t have one.” 

Again the soft smile fades, warm eyes all too pained, all too knowing, all too frustratingly warm as he sits and tries to ignore them. “I’m sorry.” 

“It’s life.” 

“So you have no one?” 

Silence. 

“Not even a friend somewhere, waiting for you to come home?” 

He shrugs again, he’s not sure. Zelda is out there, but she knows he’s gone and won’t be expecting him back. Syrup and Irene might notice he’s gone, Gully will, but they won’t be waiting either. They all know he comes and goes like the autumn wind, there one moment and gone the next. It’s almost a saying back in Kakariko that if you see the hero you’d better catch him before he fades away, as there’s no telling where he is from day to day. 

Seeing as there’s no place to linger for long, he doesn’t know what they expect. 

Twilight twists around, gaze heavy and eyes sorrowful. “Is that what it is? Seeing Four at home?” 

He huddles down a bit furtehr, as though the flinch off the blow the words deal. 

“It hurts, doesn’t it?” And it’s less question than it is sigh, the rancher turning back to the sky, pain still present in midnight blue, the stars dimming within. “When there’s no one at home waiting-” 

“Do you have to rub it in?” 

Twilight starts, flushes slightly and moves to rub at his neck. “Sorry.” 

“It’s not the end of the world,” he mumbles into his sleeves, fingers gripping tight in dark folds. “’s just how things are. No point crying about it.” 

“Makes things awful lonely though.” 

As though Twilight needed to tell him. 

Legend curls just a bit tighter into himself, eyes falling shut. It’s childish, but a part of him hopes that if he closes his eyes, Twilight will just go away and stop reminding him of it all. “Don’t you have a champion to be wrangling right about now?” 

The thatch beneath them rustles, betraying some sort of movement from his companion, but this time he has the sense to keep his eyes shut as Twilight answers, has the sense to leave himself in the dark as to the look on the other man’s face, or what he’s doing. “Wild seemed pretty content to sit and listen to Time trying to out match Leon and Mister Smith.” 

“And you weren’t content to stay with them?” 

There’s a soft little hum and then “I wanted to be out here with you.” 

What the actual- 

“Why?” 

“Because.” As though it’s the simplest thing in the world. 

And it seems like to Twilight it must be, because when he lifts his face to stare at the man, bright eyes are turned up towards the sky, face peaceful and undisturbed, even as Legend stares in utter and complete confusion. He keeps staring too, waiting for Twilight to admit some real reason, or to look at him and laugh at him for believing the words, but the man doesn’t. Twilight just keeps watching the sky, gaze darting from one constellation to another until at last the man frowns, face creasing in confusion as he stares upwards. 

Curious, Legend tries to follow his gaze. He has to edge a bit closer to the other man, but the flick of an ear is the only response to his motion, so that even when he's only a few inches away, there’s no complaint.  

When he looks up, he sees the Holy Maiden cradling the moon in her arms. 

“Four said there’s something round the moon,” it’s like Twi knows he’s looking too, although he knows there’s been nary a glance spared his way since last words were spoken. “but I can’t fathom what the heck it is.” 

Legend huffs. “It’s the Holy Maiden.” 

“The wha?” Twilight’s smile is almost infectuous. 

He rolls his eyes, leaning a bit closer to trace the stars, showing the rancher how they mesh and weave into the image. “It’s Lolia, goddess of the Mirror World.” His hand falls, and it’s only then he realizes just how close he’s pressed himself to his brother’s side, Twilight’s gaze on him though stops him from shifting away, almost wary to move at all as the man watches. “She’s Hylia’s reflection.” 

There’s a furrow in dark brows, but nothing said. Rather, an arm comes up around behind him, warm and solid against his back.  

He's not sure what prompts him to continue, gaze trailing up to stare at the crescent cradled in star formed arms. “They say that when darkness first fell on the world, the people were afraid the world was ending, so Lolia crafted the moon to give them light and assurance, even on the longest and harshest of nights. They say she holds it up herself each night to give promise to her people, and whenever it’s light fades, she renews it so they’ll never be without.” 

“Always just thought it was a big rock in the sky,” comes the answering hum. 

Legend snorts. 

The arm behind him shifts, lifting to settle around his shoulder and pull him closer as the rancher’s other hand points upwards, towards the Great Triangle. “What about that bunch over there.” 

Laughter escapes him despite himself at the man’s incompetance. “You really were brough up human, huh?” 

He’s expecting some scolding or huff, but Twilight just glances down, arching a brow expectantly. 

Legend rolls his eyes and gives in. “it’s the Great Triangle, the stars that point the way to Hyrule Castle. Once upon a time, they say the Triforce was formed up there.”  

~~~~~~~~~ 

#lu legend #lu twilight #ketto writes #asks and answers #linked universe #linkeduniverse #cantankerouscanuck my beloved #best wishes with you friend #i hope you find healing

[wutheringmights]

Remember how yesterday we talked about a CTB AU where the Chain lands in New Hyrule, forcing Spirit and Warriors into reuniting. Because I have many things to procrastinate on, here is a little snippet of that AU.

It’s basically the events described in the original post, featuring copious amounts of Linebeck III.

A few notes:

I wrote this in like... two hours? So please forgive any and all typos

This is non-canon to CTB and contains no spoilers to the original fic

While I tried to include as many details about New Hyrule and Spirit post-CTB that I currently intend to make canon to CTB, things are subjected to change as I write further into CTB

This is a one shot that I do not intend to continue or add to

All that being said, please enjoy!

---

The glitz and glamour of a New Hyrulean ball was always enough to throw Link off kilter, but tonight there was something else creeping up the column of his neck. The who’s who of New Hyrule and the surrounding kingdoms on the continent filled the ballroom with satins and silk, with laughter and chatter, and so many spirits.

It was hard to keep his mind focused on Zelda (fluttery flute music, ghostly wisps of light) as she mingled with foreign nobility. She was beautiful, as always. Her hair was radiant gold under the light of the crystal chandelier, her skin a deep brown hue that contrasted ethereally with her purple dress. When she laughed, she showed off that adorable gap between her teeth that made Link weak between the knees.

Yet, Link couldn’t look at her for too long.

Too many sensations drummed on his brain, demanding attention. Usually, he could drown it out. But between the sensations of barking dogs, the taste of sweet wines, the smell of floral perfumes, the crunchy cold of fresh snow, the scrape of nails on the scalp, the squish of dough under the hands, the mother’s old lullaby, the golden sparkles of joy—under the little purviews of other strangers’ lives, there an undercurrent of a fire burning.

The heat seared under his skin, roaring like a forest fire as it devoured his bones one by one. Sweat brimmed on his hairline as he leaned against the nearest wall and huffed. For years now, his anxiety made him feel like he had caught flame. It reminded him of being sixteen, of hiding around that military camp as he tried to avoid the thumping boots of the captain. He remembered the nights he would spend in quiet dread as he felt that burning Link draw ever closer to him. Heat was his warning that he we no longer safe.

“Stop doing that thing.”

Link didn’t realize he had closed his eyes until he peeked them open. Linebeck (vanilla rum pipe smoke, dried paint on his fingers) was dressed in his finest coat, decked in the precious treasure jewelry his company was meant to sell. When Link was a kid, he thought Linebeck was an intimidating adult. But now that he’s hit his growth spurt and gained some muscle of his own, his friend and business partner seemed scrawny in comparison.

“What thing?” Link said.

Linebeck huffed. “This thing.” He pried Link’s fingers from his collar—he had been tugging the buttons of his dress shirt undone, trying to alleviate the heat consuming his body. “As majority owner of Linebeck and Macaryll Railworks, I suggest you pull yourself together and look presentable for our potential investors.”

Link snorted. “Fifty-point-one percent is not majority owner.”

“Excuse me? Did the forty-nine-point-nine percent minority owner say something?” He fixed up Link’s collar, then smoothed the wrinkles from his jacket. He wore the blue and green jacket of the Castle Guard, but unlike the guards actually on duty, his was made for fashion. Gold epaulettes laden each shoulder, and medals clinked on his chest. Linebeck tried to fix his curly hair and grimaced at the wet slick of sweat. “I can’t take you anywhere, I swear.”

Link rolled his eyes and pushed Linebeck away. He wiped his sleeve over his forehead “We don’t need investors.”

“Ah-ha, that’s what you say, but extra rupees on hand is always helpful.”

“Linebeck—”

“And it doesn’t hurt to make people think we’re valuable, even if we just turn them all down.” He leaned against the wall, pulling his pipe from his pocket. Link watched intently as he checked that it was still filled before striking a match and lighting it. His thin lips wrapped around the spout, opening and closing like a valve until he pulled away with a smoky sigh. “Trust me, lug brain. I’m working double time to be the most charming member of our duo when you got—” With his pipe, he traced the scar cutting Link’s face in half. “The… you know. The big, tall, and intimidating thing going for you.”

Link shrugged. “Niko says it makes me look dashing.”

“He would say that.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“He’s your grandpa.”

“Uncle.” Link placed his hand over his chest. “And he has the cultured taste of a thirteen year old boy.”

Linebeck laughed, smacking his shoulder. “That’s what I like to see! Go throw that charm onto some unsuspecting lads and ladies instead of sulking here in a corner.”

Link frowned. “I’m on duty—”

“And making yourself miserable.” Linebeck grinned wolfishly, revealing two rows of yellowed teeth. “Go have some fun and maybe you’ll stop being roped back here every few weeks. Then you can focus on making me some more trains full time.”

Link couldn’t help but to smile. He knew he hadn’t been his best these past few months. When he and Zelda first broken up, it was easy to pretend that they hadn’t. They were still friends who spent all their free time together, and when Zelda was too busy, Link could just focus on getting Linebeck and Macaryll Railworks off the ground.

But now that Zelda was being pressured into starting a courtship with someone who could (wanted to be) be her prince consort, he couldn’t avoid the truth any longer: one day, Zelda would truly leave him and all he could do was sit there and watch.

Linebeck stuck his pipe back into his mouth, puffing it a few times. “And if you flirt with someone with enough money to throw into a humble business venture—the better it’ll be.”

Link rolled his eyes, about to shove Linebeck back again. But his eyes narrowed on the wooden pipe. It had a nautical design. Linebeck had once said that was an heirloom belonging to his grandfather. It was a gift from the great Captain Linebeck’s dear friend, the Hero of Winds. Three generations of the Linebeck family had chewed into the end of it as they puffed their tobacco into the air.

Link reached for the pipe without thinking.

“Oh no!” Linebeck held the pipe far out of reach, shoving him away. “No, no, no, no! I told your uncle I wouldn’t let you get into this crap anymore.”

“Just one,” Link said. “Really, just one more than I’m good.”

Linebeck hesitated. Link had gotten into smoking a few years back when he realized that calm his nerves better than any breathing exercise. Since then, it had been an on and off battle to quit. He had been doing well recently, having thrown out his box of cigarettes by himself a few months previous.

One of the best things about Linebeck was that he had no moral high ground. All it took was one pleading look for him to crumble. He handed it over. “Fine, but you didn’t get it from me.”

Link took it greedily, but he was true to his word. He took one deep inhale, tasting the vanilla rum flavored tobacco on his tongue as the smoke soothed his frayed nerves. He exhaled and didn’t complain when Linebeck snatched his pipe back.

Link smirked as Linebeck muttered a slew of swears, deciding it best to extinguished the pipe now before Link could be tempted again.

“You’re a really bad influence,” Link teased.

“I remember when you were a shy little brat,” Linebeck said. “You used to look up to me! Never gave me lip or anything. And now you’re here bullying a dashing gentleman like me! The audacity!” He stomped off.

“Thank you, fifty-point-one percent majority owner,” Link called. “Have fun!”

Linebeck shouted something back that made a few noble lords gasp in offense, hands on scandalized chests.

Link laughed again. Intangible fire still burned, but it was easier to ignore now. He still meandered away from his lonely corner, finding the wall of opened glass doors that led to the balcony. Just being near the night air would do him some good for cooling off. He had his eye on a particular spot that would give him a good view of Zelda when a leather-clad hand covered his mouth.

It burned.

Link shouted. It was like a hot iron was pressed to his lips. The sudden onslaught of pain was harsh enough for another hand to catch both his wrists in a searing grip behind his back. He was hauled back. Link shouted into the palm, trying to kick the perpetrator away.

But his captor was fast. Before anyone could see, he was dragged through the open doors and onto the balcony.

Link had hoped that there would be some pining pair of lovers to witness what was happening, but the early autumn air had a chill that ward them all away. He was utterly alone with the captor with the burning hands when he was pushed face-first against the nearest wall.

“Calm down, engineer,” a low voice said. “I’m not here to hurt you.”

Link froze. He knew that voice. It had been years, but he never forgot it, no matter how hard he tried. He tried to crane his neck around to get a better look. After a moment, the hand on his mouth helped him turn.

The captain (a fire burning, burning, all-consuming).

The passage of time seemed to have been the same for the captain as it was for him. He was taller now too, but still lean and regal looking. His typical scarf and tunic were gone, replaced by clothes that were refined enough to blend into the ball. His blue eyes were as cutting as ever.

The engineer tried to say something, but the captain pressed his hand closer to his mouth. He was still wearing those leather gloves of his. Link hated them. They did nothing to dampen the feeling of his spirit.

“Are you calm? Good.” The captain smiled like this wasn’t Link’s worse nightmare, that sometimes he couldn’t get out of bed in the morning in fear of one of those portals taking him back to the captain’s Hyrule. “You look like you’re doing good. Thank Farore. You have no idea how worried I was about you.”

Link held his breath as the captain leaned into his ear. He couldn’t panic. Not now. He had been through this before. He could keep his cool now.

“I know you didn’t ever want to see me again, and I get it. But fate’s forcing our hands with this one. So I just want to talk it out now before things get worse. Are we clear?”

Link closed his eyes. Total calm.

He nodded.

“Okay.” The captain released him. “So—”

Link jammed his elbow into the captain’s gut, causing him to shout and stumble back.

“Help!” Link screamed as he drew his sword.

The captain swore and readily drew his sword too. “Engineer—”

And, long after Link had earned his peace, when he should have been able to rest without the pain of those years ever coming back to cut him again, Link’s sword clashed with the captain’s again, and he knew that those foreign gods that had reigned over that terrible land would never truly let him go.

#I have no idea what possessed me to go so hard with this. but hard i went #linked universe #linkeduniverse #Lu fanfic #lu #lu warriors #lu spirit #legend of zelda #loz #lu ctb #lu call them brothers #ctb au #Spirit Arrests Warriors AU #me rambling

[justacasualidiot]

Zora Headcanons!!!

(there will be swearing)

• Gender is weird for the Zora to the peoples of Hyrule who aren’t Zora. One week Random Zora A is female, the next, she has dicks? So Zora aren’t born with sexes, and until children are old enough to be walking around, talking, etc. they can start ✨choosing genders✨. The can go “hey, I wanna be a girl” BAM! ya got a womb. “hey, I wanna be a boy” BAM! ya got some dicks. “I want neither” BAM MOTHERFUCKER! YOU CAN HAVE NEITHER! AND BONUS, you can go “I’m a boy but I want a womb” BAM! YOUR A BOY WITH A WOMB NOW! (it takes like a week or two to transition) But yeah Zora can just kinda pick and choose (and change!) their parts whenever and however they want. You want ‘em both? sure!

• The Zora Domain is a lot bigger than it is in the game because WHERE THE HELL DO PEOPLE SLEEP??? WHERE TO THEY LIVE??? ITS ALL JUST FANCY LUMINOUS STONE SHENANIGANS.

• bioluminescent Zora. (well, spots and little patterns, not the full Zora)

• COLD BLOODED MOTHER FUCKERS!!! IDK IF THEY SAY IT IN THE GAME OR NOT BUT ZORA ARE COLD BLOODED!!!

• okay I know this is more fanon but Zora tails express their emotions okay! kinda in dog language bc other animals (like cats for example) have different meanings to the same motions with their tails. wag = happy, yeah that’s all i can pull out of my brain rn i’m sleep deprived as shit and stuck with a hellish migraine. YES I DRANK WATER.

• elixirs don’t really work for them? like they can take elixirs but they just. don’t work. they can’t get the effect.

uh yeah that’s pretty much it for now, that’s all the Zora nonsense rattling around in my brain.

#legend of zelda #loz #totk #botw #botw/totk #zora #headcanons #my headcanons #my head is killing me #zora headcanons #yippie #loz totk #loz botw #i swear #tw swearing #i think i have a migraine #this is not good #why am i posting on tumblr instead of sleeping #actually why am i just talking about probably having a migraine in the tags of a headcanons post??? #yeah idfk #anyway #loz zora

[bloodybloob]

All the gods weaknesses perhaps?

I’ve never really thought about it? I’m sure that they gain strength from worship but don’t die off without it. Some have more specific weaknesses though.

Time’s weakness is less external than it is internal. Some sort of injury or another that makes him confused can have reality warping effects on whatever is around him, twisting things to be incomprehensible before people, something you couldn’t describe with the words given to you in your language.

Sky’s is lack of emotion I suppose, if you don’t have a lot going for you emotionally then he can’t do much for/against you mentally speaking.

Warriors is too much bloodshed, hate, death and violence. He gets drunk off the feeling and is unable to coordinate.

Twilight’s may be some form of light magic, his godly form has after all been corrupted by a dark force.

Four’s is a loss of rich minerals or poisoning of the ground. He is able to take that stuff much better than Wild however because the effects aren’t as immediate and can be taken care of, despite this, he does get sick sometimes.

Legend’s prophecies can be a bit overbearing on his brain at times and cause great headaches, Ravio’s puppy dog eyes are also a weakness.

Hyrule’s is lack of magic, he is able to supply it despite this, it’s just that a low amount makes him queasy or moody. Over saturation of magic thought is painful.

Wild’s, as stated previously, is loss of natural life.

For Wind I guess places where wind doesn’t travel, he has to physically be there to feel any weaker though.

#linked universe #asks #god au #I’m feeling I should make a masterlist huh

[dark9896]

Kekkai Sensen characters as Jello Apocalypse's So This Is Basically Legend of Zelda video quotes (cause my brain is stuck on meme mode...)

Klaus: Sometimes he's young, sometimes he's hot, sometimes he's toon, sometimes he's not. But he's always HYEH!

Steven: I mean, you don't need that last Heart Piece Container. You'll just have nineteen of them up there on your screen, daunting you.

Leo: HYEH missed orientation and has to prove himself every game to the finicky goddesses.

Sonic: Where... Where'd you get that heart Picori? Where'd you get that?

Zapp: Uh... I'm feeling like a... pshshshbt... a pizza. A Hero's pizza, but its gonna need the sacred toppings.

Zed: Ever wanna kiss a fish on its fishy fish lips? Look at all these attractive fish! You can kiss this fish, or this fish, or this fish! The fish-abilities are end-fish.

Chain: Zelda chills out in a dungeon somewhere and makes HYEH pick up her dry cleaning.

Dog: Why did I get this thing again?

Gilbert: Good luck hitting me with that 19 year old control scheme! Ugh, they got the 3DS remake... doesn't count.

K.K.: Zelda doesn't have a personality, except in Windwaker where she's a cool pirate. Oops, boring Princess mode activate...

Daniel: Sometimes he shows up at the end of the game and uses the darkest magic of all... plagerism.

Raju: Ganondorf is a wizard, who doesn't know what wizards are...

Femt: Ganondorf wants to take over Hyrule for... reasons...

Aligula: In Breath of the Wild you can unlock her personality, yep... that's. That's what I'm focused on it these cutscenes...

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