*sighs* Not again
Okay so it's another LU idea and can someone please adopt it so it will leave me alone? Anyone? I have too many projects already. Someone please save me!
Anyway. This is a "Legend is the last one to join the chain" idea. He was practically raised by Fi after he pulled the Master Sword for the first time (was it @bokettochild who came up with that? I know I've read some really good fics with that but I'm not sure I remember by who correctly. Please correct me if I've mixed people up), and it takes place on Lorule's Death Mountain. Link is a regular at the Treacherous Tower, because it's an easy way to earn money and with the Triforce restored the monsters aren't as mindless as before so he actually befriends them (though I hc the monsters in the T-Tower were the least mindless to begin with (at least the ones in the audience, maybe the ones one fights were caught mindless ones), probably around the level of Blind the Ex-Sage the Thief, and that they just became more "stable" and better att communicating when the Triforce was restored). Anyway when the story takes place, Link is actually filling in for the final boss because the Purple Moldorm is sick and their new Union demands sick time or something.
When the chain appears in Lorule it's fairly near the T-Tower and when they ask the Devilish Girl about the Hero and learn he's the final boss, they realize someone will have to get up there and defeat him for his shift to end. She will only let one of them enter, so Sky, Warriors or Wild traverse the Tower with the Master Sword in hand (and I'd pick one of those three because they're aware of Fi's presence. Wild might be post-TotK Wild).
When Sky/Wars/Wild finally makes it to Legend there's some brief chatting, and when they attempt to attack each other they simultaneously get their hands burned and Legend accidentally hisses an undignified "Mom!" at Fi making the other Hero realise this teen was practically raised by a sword (and yes this is the scene that gives me the urge to write this, please save me). It becomes a sword-less battle, because Legend shift won't end if he's not defeated and his (magical?) contract don't permit him to hold back more than making it non-leathal. Tri-Force Heroes might've taken place before ALBW for this fic so Legend actually can use doppels/doppel medallion/etc so there 3v1 for a bit. Surprising move from Sky/Wars/Wild eventually sees Legend defeated and he meets the rest of the chain. He probably offers to guide them to the Castle to talk with Princess Hilda, if it doesn't turn out they've managed to get the information they want from the monsters on the audience while they watched. Maybe the chain are chatting about different friendly/civil monsters they've met during their adventures while descending the mountain. And/or Sky/Wars/Wild asks Legend why he addressed his sword as mom.
And because I am utterly incapable of keeping a story idea short, I was also considering to make it so Link is stuck in Lorule because the bracelet only had enough power left to send one of them home to Hyrule and both Link and Princess Hilda agreed Princess Zelda should be the one to return. Ravio would in that case likewise be stuck in Hyrule because he didn't have enough magic. He had probably managed to sneak into Hyrule's Sacred Realm trying to go home and met Zelda as she came back so he knew Link had won, though he might've left before Zelda made her wish (or even woke up?) and thinks Lorule and Link is gone. Maybe. It has some sweet juicy angst potential to let Ravio think his home and hero are destroyed. But also including this would for sure make it a longer fic...
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thinking about Eddie, who because of the upsidedown was in a coma for effectively the rest of '86. When he woke up he had to re-learn a lot of shit, since even after he could open his eyes and sit up, moving was still hard.
Steve and Robin go with him to all of his PT appointments as he works on moving and standing up, but not walking yet. The therapist overhears him complaining to Steve about how he misses writing, since his hands are too shaky for the words to be legible.
She tells him that if he wants to write better he should practice more, and maybe pick something else up that requires small, repetitive movements, like sewing or crocheting.
Eddie is about to open his mouth to say that sewing might be a good idea, because he can work on putting his old patches onto the new vest that the kids bought him as a "we're glad you're not dead present", when Robin comes back from the bathroom and pipes up that she has some crocheting stuff from when she and Steve tried to learn together a few years back, and that's the end of that conversation.
crocheting is his least favorite part of the night, even if Robin and Steve are patient and let him pick the movie in the background and don't get frustrated when he drops the hook between the couch cushions for the thirtieth time in an hour.
Eventually he gets the hang of it, but--out of spite--refuses to make anything other than a very long line with his yarn, telling Steve and Robin he's going to strangle them with it when he's done, because crocheting "is literally the least metal thing in the world."
He stops threatening to strangle Robin after she makes him a little bat.
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barbarian!bakugo + buying apples. you’ll notice I didn’t put any work into this making it more … fantasy-like. And that’s bc… I still couldn’t figure out how😞
(warning: misogyny, you are described as a maiden / dress wearing, you have a pa, world building sucks, bakugo … doesn’t talk)
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Being the only maiden on one of barbarian!Bakugo’s cross country journeys. I’m not sure yet how or why you’re there, but I’d say he’s traveling and one of his fellow clansmen took you as a prize, or maybe you just hitched a ride on their cart yourself.
But they stop in a small village one day, parking their horses at the edge of a town square of cobblestone and brick, merchant booths surrounding the small shops: of butchers and farmers and fishermen and traders, all rowdy and beaming as they show off their wares.
The men split up (the one with green hair in a leather vest declaring he needs a blacksmith, the lanky one with dark bangs in the direction of new snare wire), though the bulky blonde one (the one in thick furs and pelts who’s never really spoken to you) stays around, picking at the shiny, pink apples of a booth quite close to where the cart you sit on in boredom is parked.
“Five gold for a sack, sir” the man behind the creaky, wooden stand says. He’s stout, thin-haired and wrinkly, all his years in the sun selling fruit showing proudly on his tanned skin. He gestures to the wide array of fruits, each like a piece of candy he wants to show off.
Bakugo (you think his name his, or rather, that’s how he was introduced to you by the redhead with unnaturally sharp teeth, biggest of the group) glances up, frown thin and tense and blood red eyes narrowed. His shoulders shift, the muscles of his exposed stomach rippling as he breathes, the smooth skin of his forehead pinching as if he’s calculating a sale just as he would any other battle or raid.
The sign next to both the men clearly states that apples are two gold a sack. Pears are three, plums are one. “But I’ll give you a deal for four gold,” the man continues.
The blonde ponders, inspecting the apples diligently as if they could be poison, or a waste of a trade. His eyes narrow slightly, lips pursing, and you realize, in his reaching for coin, the intuition he so usually takes pride in (saving the men once from a brutal hound attack, and you, too, another time when a swamp dweller caught the hem of your trousers) is not there… and that they don’t use the same alphabet. Maybe he can’t even… read.
“For two gold,” you call.
Both parties look to you. One set of eyes in an suspicious glare, the other in a tart and angry bitterness. The merchant’s leathery face sinks into a melted frown, his fists clenching as your own hand shields your eyes from the bright sun and hides a protective squint.
“Didn’t your pa ever tell you not to meddle in grown men’s business?” he half-shouts back, the laugh in his voice now tangled with a snarl, downright and plain rude.
“The sign says two,” swinging off your seat, you smooth down your simple frock as you point to the wooden board stained with charcoal that’s hung up next to him. “One sack of apples for two gold.”
Bakugo’s eyebrows raise for the briefest of seconds, then fall in another glare as his hand drops from where he holds his coin (in small, canvas bag tied to his belt with thin, leather cord. It sags against his hip, his pants dipping and uncovering a v-line that descends further into a region you’ve only seen once; at a bathing river in the hills, the bare curve and marks of your own hips exposed—)
“Don’t know where you picked up letters, missy,” the merchant scoffs. “Reading is men’s work.”
You approach the barbarian’s side, his head (messy with hair) tilted towards you as he watches on in silence. From the pocket of your dress, you take out two gold of your own and flick them on the table before you.
“My pa taught me how.”
Then you take Bakugo’s hand (thick and rough and hard to hold) in one of yours and march right back to the horses and cart. Bag of sweet, pink apples in the other.
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spent five hours today cleaning my goddamn laptop and at least two if not two and a half of those were on the keyboard alone and its still kind of grody in there but i literally could not bring myself to care at that point but i had all the key caps off so i still had to clean it a little bit and fiddle with those stupid tiny plastic mother fuckers that go between the key cover and the rubber nipple and i lost one part of one so may have to buy a whole new key and ANYWAY. this is a very long way of saying that if you have one of those little usb desk vacuums i hate you and also please buy me one
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