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adrift-in-thyme · 11 months

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Ooh, you’re taking drabble requests? :D Could I get something with Legend and Warriors maybe? Angst or fluff or whatever (though you know I love hurt/comfort XD) Love your writing!

-Sky Floor

Thanks so much for the request!! 💖 I went with hurt/comfort ;)

Sorry it took me so long to write this! Hopefully it proves to be worth the wait

Warning: an animal is trapped and injured in this fic. It’s not graphic but keep yourselves safe!

Fic beneath the cut

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Legend has been gone for two days.

Hard as he tries, Warriors can’t stop the worry from seeping in, spreading past his careful defenses. The vet can handle himself, that much is for certain. But to disappear the way he did, so soon after they had been separated from the others and during an intense monster fight, it’s more than a little concerning.

When a day of searching ends with no sign of the veteran, it becomes even harder to keep his spirits up. The guilt certainly doesn’t help either. It drags at his heels, eating at him as he trudges onward.

How could he possibly have lost track of him? He’s usually so attentive to his surroundings. But Legend had been there one moment and gone the next, and he has no one to blame except himself.

The veteran has to still be alive, though. Warriors won’t entertain the alternative.

And then, on the morning of the third day, while searching a new part of the woods, he hears it.

The sound emanates from behind a nearby bush, an incessant banging and thrashing that echoes throughout the clearing. Warriors comes to an abrupt stop, frowning in its direction.

He’s no stranger to the many noises of the creatures that scamper throughout the forest. They frequently keep him company when it’s his turn to scout out the area, sometimes even playing about his feet as he walks. The rustling of their romps through the underbrush, the excited squeaking and chittering as they burst forth from it—these are familiar to his ears.

But this is different.

There is no playfulness here, no light-hearted mischief. These movements are panicked and violent, a terrible, unmistakable rhythm of flesh colliding with metal.

Something—or perhaps even someone—must be trapped.

Drawing his sword, Warriors steps forward. It’s a precaution that will likely be unnecessary. Still, one can never be too careful, especially considering the current situation. For all he knows a monster could be lying in wait, ready to pounce.

But when he pushes aside the delicate leaves, it isn’t a monster he sees. Though, Warriors is inclined to think a monster might make a bit more sense.

Caged in a small trap before him is a very angry, very pink rabbit.

The creature is in the middle of driving its shoulder into its enclosure, pure murder spelled out in its gaze. But then it catches sight of Warriors and stops short. Its body goes rigid.

It stares at Warriors and Warriors stares back. He blinks, trying to make sense of what he’s seeing.

Out of all the things he expected to find this is definitely not one of them. A caged animal is normal enough. No doubt a nearby villager set this trap in hopes of garnering a meal or protecting their crops. The appearance of said animal, however, that’s decidedly not normal.

He may be a city boy, but he has enough experience to know rabbits aren’t usually pink-furred and blue-eyed. Nor is their gaze usually this sharp, this…human.

Warriors tilts his head, chewing the inside of his cheek. If he’s being honest, this is all a bit disconcerting. Still, he can see the damage from here, the unnatural bend of its left leg, the blood trickling down from its forehead. And it makes his heart clench.

He can’t very well just leave it here…can he?

With a sigh, he sheaths his sword. At this point, it would likely be better to just let the inevitable happen. With these wounds, the rabbit is unlikely to survive in the wild. But the very thought of leaving it to its fate sends a fresh streak of guilt shooting through him.

Besides, some small part of him has begun to wonder if maybe, just maybe this strange event has something to do with Legend’s disappearance. So, he bends down and reaches for the cage door.

“Hey, little guy,” he murmurs, with a small smile. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you out of here.”

He hasn’t even managed to unlock it, however, when the rabbit levels him with a blistering scowl, opens its tiny mouth, and speaks.

“Congratulations, you found me. Now, drop the act.”

Warriors freezes, eyes going wide. He must have finally lost it because he’s almost certain that animal just talked.

…and sounded an awful lot like Legend too. And while finding their missing veteran in this manner wouldn’t be the strangest thing that's ever happened to him, it definitely makes the top ten.

He leans forward as though a better look will clear up things.

“Vet?! Is it really you?”

The rabbit’s—no Legend’s—expression doesn’t change. He can see it though, the utter terror peeking out from behind the anger. And is it just him or are there slight tremors running through his tiny body?

“Don’t you dare feign stupidity.” The vet jabs a paw in his direction. “I know who you are and you’ve got no right taking his form.”

Taking his…Oh.

The pieces are beginning to come together in his mind. The picture they paint isn’t a pretty one.

“If you’re gonna kill me, just get it over with,” Legend continues, voice brittle and bitter. “But don’t you do it looking like Warriors.”

Warriors reaches for the door again. It’s not a complex trap—though it’s certainly an effective one—and he manages to get it open quickly.

“I’m not here to kill you,” he assures, motioning for his friend to exit. “And I’m not the Shadow.”

Legend gives him a look of pure hatred and doesn’t budge. Warriors waits there, holding up the door for a few moments more, then sighs. He offers the vet his hand.

“Here. I must at least smell different than he does.”

Tentatively, Legend drags himself forward, tiny nose twitching. When the blow he is undoubtedly expecting doesn’t come, he gives Warriors a couple of good sniffs. And finally, his body relaxes.

“See?” Warriors grins. Relief washes over him in dizzying waves. “I told you it was me.”

Legend shudders, looking ready to either collapse or begin crying. Warriors can’t be certain which.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” he snaps, but there is no venom in his shaky tone. He bats away Warriors’ hand and drags himself from the cage. “And that’s just my luck. Now, I’m never gonna live this down.”

Warriors looks back down at the trap, inwardly cringing. If the vet thinks he’s going to tease him about this, he’s sorely mistaken.

“I’ve been looking for you for days. Is this where you’ve been the whole time?”

Legend slumps, not meeting his eyes.

“Not the whole time.”

There’s a story behind that statement. One that is likely long, and unpleasant, and, unfortunately, necessary for him to hear. But before Warriors can press, a familiar screech shatters the relative silence.

He has never known animals to pale, yet in that moment Warriors is certain Legend does.

“Monsters,” he breathes. “The Shadow must’ve sent them after me.” He turns to Warriors, eyes wide, and terrified, and almost pleading. “I can’t fight in this form! I’m helpless!”

There’s an edge of barely concealed hysteria to his tone now. Warriors steps forward and scoops the rabbit off the ground. Legend lets out an indignant squeak, which he ignores.

“You won’t have to fight,” he says, quickly scanning the area. There’s a small cave nearby, and he heads toward it. “We’ll conceal ourselves here, let them pass by. If they still spot us, I’ll take them on.”

Legend has gone rigid in his grasp, but at that he slumps, looking defeated. And when Warriors tucks himself away in the darkness of the cave, his friend still held to his chest, the veteran doesn’t protest.

They sit in silence, as the monsters thunder past. Warriors half expects one of them to catch sight of the cave and take interest. But not one of them dares to break from the stampede, save to peek behind bushes and trees. And it isn’t long before their squeals and shrieks fade into the distance.

Warriors blows out the breath he had been holding.

“Looks like we got lucky, vet,” he says, a relieved grin pulling at his lips.

They’re safe, at least, for the moment. There are other things to worry about now…such as the tiny rabbit currently shivering in his lap.

He looks down at him, just barely resisting the urge to run a hand through his fur. “You okay?”

Legend shudders, ears drooping, eyes averted.

“I’m fine.”

He’s most definitely not, but Warriors lets it slide for now.

“Can you drink potion in that form?” He asks, already rifling about in his pouch for one. The veteran’s wounds look rather painful.

But Legend shakes his head. “It won’t work the same. I’ve gotta change back so it can actually heal me.”

“And how do we change you back?”

“With a moon pearl…or the Master Sword. Neither of which we have access to at the moment.”

Warriors sighs. “I’m sorry, vet.”

“It’s not your fault this form is useless.”

Legend’s body gives another little shiver. Though he glances at the entrance to the cave, he doesn’t move.

“It is my fault for losing track of you, though.”

Now, Legend looks at him, eyebrow raised in an unimpressed expression.

“What’re you, my babysitter? I can take care of myself, you know. I’m the veteran of hero business.”

Warriors lets out a dry chuckle. “Touché.”

He brings the veteran a bit closer, finally giving in to the urge to pet his silky fur. Though Legend hardly looks thrilled with it, he doesn’t pull away. He even begins to relax a bit after a few moments have passed, leaning into Warriors’ touch unconsciously. And when Warriors smooths a hand over one of his ears, he lets out a tiny sigh.

“This form isn’t all bad, you know,” the captain says, and Legend gives him a knowing grin.

“Why, because I’m soft and fluffy?”

A grin of his own lifts Warriors’ lips. “Maybe.”

The veteran hums. He shifts, settling in a bit more cozily on Warriors’ lap. Already, he is beginning to drift, exhaustion dragging at him. Warriors isn’t surprised. Though he doesn’t know the specifics of his unfortunate ordeal, he is certain it was anything but pleasant.

And if Legend feels safe with him, even while in this vulnerable (and frankly, adorable) form, he is glad of it.

“We’ll find the others,” he assures him, quietly. “Sky will be more than happy to help you out. You’ll be back in your Hylian form before you know it.”

And then we can get these injuries healed, he thinks as his fingers bump against a cut.

Legend gives another hum of acknowledgment.

“Hey, pretty boy?” He murmurs after a pause. “Thanks.”

Warriors smiles.

The sooner they reunite with the others, the better. For now, though, it won’t hurt to spend a few more moments here, watching the moon rise behind the hills and feeling his friend’s soft fur beneath his fingertips.

#took some inspiration from ‘turbulent waters’#I love the idea of warriors seeing legend in the forms he hates the most #especially when those forms put him in a vulnerable and dangerous situation #sky floor my beloved #asks #trin writes #linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu warriors #bunny legend #angst #hurt/comfort #blood and injury #tw animal injury

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shadowlinktheshadow · 3 months

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Perhaps do a little Legend? Bunny man? Pissed off icon? Make him like not suffering tho like give him a good time this time :]

heres the wip I showed you lmao

theres an unfinisjed one (the angry version) but I scrapped it (under the cut)

#vio answers #mushroom my beloved #legend of zelda #linked universe #lu legend #bunny legend #shadowed art

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squigglywindy · 1 year

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Bunny Legend in Calamity.

-catreginae

Sorry this took like a year!

…I’ve never done a bunny before.

Palette from Andromeda’s lovely selection which can be found here

#cat my beloved #squiggles answers #squiggles does ‘art’#linked universe #LU Legend #Bunny Legend #i drew this while listening to a lecture

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flameultra04 · 2 years

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You know who needs more love? Probably Ravio.

I had a thought that after ALBW, he became a Lorulean knight, mostly for status and possible wealth. He just chills around and still tries to sell stuff, which Hilda is aware of but she doesn’t really care since he’s getting out of his comfort zone for once. He’s also hoping to just be a good friend to her and give her some moral support, especially after what happened in the game.

A full body. He’s very ✨smol✨

And an extra little thingy of Sage, trying and failing to give him business advice. Ravio would probably still be doing what he’s doing by the events of TriForce Heroes anyway so perhaps they could meet this way through magical means.

#legend of zelda #art #artists on tumblr #digital art #zelda fanart #a link between worlds #link between worlds #loz albw #albw ravio #ravio #ravio my beloved #the bunny man I love him

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skyward-floored · 1 year

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It’s funny cuz for someone who cares the least About Legend (i don’t hate him, I just don’t think about him as much as the others) I sure do have a lotta thoughts on him

That’s kinda me with Four, I like him a lot but tend not to think about him as much as the other Links. But I do have thoughts about him, and I think if I got going I’d have a lot to say about him

#answers from the floor #smiles my beloved #this kinda reminds me a bit of when I went through a phase where I was obsessed with Legend #Though that was kind of a fandom-wide thing for a while after bunny legend XD

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athousandcowboys · 2 years

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why am i incapable of coming up with a fic that isn’t extremely complicated

#this plot bunny about legend being the old man in caves in zelda i and ii has spiraled out of control #i have over 20 pages of notes and didn’t even outline the whole plot yet #i have invented an entire fake country and culture based on where hyrule is originally from #hy writes #it would just mean that legend lives through the golden era and the era of decline #and since he’s close to zelda-fable he’d probably be involved somewhat in all the royal shenanigans #and because he’s fucking legend of course he catches on to something being off very early on #so i guess i’ll just have everyone gaslight him #idk sucks to have a protagonist who is smarter than you #when ur the writer djdjdjsn #anyway the prince of hyrule is my sweet baby boy #new blorbo unlocked #aurora is also quickly becoming a blorbo so beloved im almost tempted to create an au where i don’t have to fridge her #it’s so unfair #anyway i haven’t actually written like #a passage of this yet it’s just notes and ideas 20 pages long yeehaw #but this was supposed to be a very short fic with a seasonal motif about different times hyrule and legend crossed paths #ughdjdjd #at least i actually know where im going with this unlike my au fic #it’s just. the details #they consume me

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hotvintagepoll · 1 month

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Propaganda

Veronica Lake (I Married a Witch, Sullivan's Travels)—her look is so iconic they used her as a visual model for jessica rabbit in who framed roger rabbit and a bunch of other femme fatale types in cartoons and live action alike. i didnt think i liked women and then i saw her in sullivans travels and said gee i hope this doesnt awaken anything in me! every role ive seen her in she absolutely oozes an aura of "i know people would ask me to step on them" and her EYES bro every photo ive looked at for this submission its like shes piercing thru time and space to judge me <3

Eartha Kitt (Anna Lucasta, St. Louis Blues)—My friend and I have a saying: NOBODY is Eartha Kitt. A thousand have tried, and they've all come up empty and will continue to do so. Everyone knows her for something: from "Santa Baby" to Yzma in Emperor's New Groove to Catwoman to making Lady Bird Johnson cry for the Vietnam War. She was a master of comedy and sex, an extremely vocal activist, and she aged like fine wine... I honestly don't know what I can say about her that hasn't already been said, so I'll stick to linking all my propaganda. Like what else do you want from me. She was iconic at everything she ever did. Literally name another. How can anyone even think of her and not want to absolutely drown?

This is round 5 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Veronica Lake:

Her HAIR, her FIGURE, her VOICE, the way she wore LEATHER AND SANG SONGS FOR NO REASON.

I don't believe there's a person on earth who can watch Veronica Lake in I Married A Witch and not be struck by how gorgeous she is. She had that youthful wonder about her that almost every Hollywood starlet was trying to achieve. Her hairstyle (peekaboo bangs) became an iconic Hollywood style after she popularized it, and made her signature look all the more suggestive. Also, witches are tumblrs favorite!

ICONIC hair sweep

The US government literally begged her to change her hairstyle because it was TOO HOT to handle and women who copied it were getting their hair caught in machinery

Her hairstyle was so iconic and popular that the war department had to come out with a PSA instructing lady ironworkers with ways they could pin their hair up to avoid it getting bound in machinery. [https://veteranlife.com/military-history/veronica-lake/]

She played a lot of femme fatale roles but my favorite is Sullivan’s Travels opposite Joel McRea, which is a comedy. She became famous for her hair style at the time—she wore it long and parted on one side so it would fall over half her face in a very sexy way. They called it a peek-a-boo I think. You’ve definitely seen Bugs Bunny dressed up like her, so I think if she’s being honored in such a way she’s very cool.

look at her

she's GORGEOUS in her little witch outfits that she wore for promos and also in the oversized coats and pajamas she wore throughout the movie...she's got RANGE

My Grandpa supposedly dated her in high school, he drove her to school in his car every day. This is legend in the family.

She has gorgeous hair, has got the smouldering look over the shoulder down PAT, and is just drop-dead gorgeous too!

Schizophrenic icon, popularized the peekaboo hairdo long before Jessica Rabbit

She’s just so prettyyyyy

So much hot in such a tiny package. She was no more than 5 feet tall, and some reports claim as small as 4'9"

If you picture a femme fatale in your head, almost certainly Veronica Lake had a hand in shaping the image you think of. She came to embody the look of the noir leading lady as well as the sound and the performance. Certified Noir Baddie.

Eartha Kitt:

"A hot vintage woman who was not just known for her voice, beauty, poise, and presence, but also her unapologetic ways of speaking about how she was mistreated in the show business as a girl who grew up on cotton fields in South Carolina in the 1930s through the 1940s coming to Broadway first and then Hollywood."

"Have you watched her sing?? Have you seen her face?? Have you heard her talk?? How could you not fall instantly in love. She makes me incoherent with how hot she is."

"She can ACT she can SING she can speak FOUR LANGUAGES she is a GODDESS!!! Although she is (rightfully) remembered for her singing, TV appearances (Catwoman my beloved), and later film roles, her early appearances in film are no less impressive or noteworthy!! She’s an amazing actress with so much charisma in every role. She was also blacklisted from Hollywood for 10 years for criticizing the Johnson administration/Vietnam War, so. Iconic. Also Orson Welles apparently called her “the most exciting woman in the world.”

"She had such a stunning, remarkable appearance, like she could tear you to shreds with just a glance- but the most undeniable part of her hotness was her voice, and it makes sense that it's what most people nowadays know her for. Nothing encapsulates the sheer magnetism of her singing better than this clip of her and Nat King Cole in St. Louis Blues, she pops in at 2:49. Also I know it's post-1970 but her song that was cut from Emperor's New Groove is likely to make you feel Feelings."

Even with as racist as Hollywood was in the 1950s and 60s, Eartha Kitt STILL managed to have a thriving career. She also once had a threesome with Paul Newman and James Dean, and called out LBJ over the Vietnam War so hard that it made First Lady Johnson cry. Eartha Kitt was talented, sexy, and a total badass activist.

#eartha kitt #veronica lake #hotvintagepoll #fuck that old woman #ladies 5

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justpoliteconversations · 3 months

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Of A Feather [Legend x Winged!Reader]

Birds of a feather and all that nonsense.

One of the fic requests from this Post. It grows.

Masterlist

TW: None.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

---

Hidden in the joists above the common room, you gaze upon your lover with keen interest from the darkened ceiling supports. Watching closely as he stripped from his outer armor and protective clothing at the doorway of your shared (with Ravio too, but he had snuck out earlier that morning, leaving you with the morning chores the jerk) home. Taking in, with the greatest appreciation and spine tingling delight, the elegant arch of his lithe back muscles, the hard flex of his thighs and calves as he bent over to take his boots off.

Even more appreciatively though, you watched as his nimble, ringed fingers went through the motions, each polished, glimmering stone drawing you in like a moth to flame. You drew slow, controlled breaths as the leather cord of a necklace (several, in fact) was revealed across his nape, teasing you with the promise of the elaborate nest of precious stones you knew lay at your love's chest.

Hn. Maybe you'd forgive Ravio for abandoning you this morning. You'd accept a little light work as payment for this moment of private (because Ravio always had something to say, the fucker), unabashed ogling. The bastard was rather intelligent and liked you well enough most days, so he'd probably done it on purpose (he had, because he was getting bored of your constant whining while Legend was gone. and because he hated dusting day).

Link snorted, quite unattractively at that, and cast a sly glance over his shoulder to your hiding place. You caught a glimpse of something shining at his collarbones and your heart nearly arrested. "You gonna come down and greet your man or just stare all day?" He snarked, teasingly, a barely contained smile forced into the visual of a smirk.

You saw through it all though. Your Link had always been such a needy bunny when he first got home from one of his advantures. Just one little peck on the cheek or wrist, and he'd putty in your hands.

That wasn't fun though. First, you needed to play the game.

"My man?" You snarked back, leaning over the joist so he could see your glinting eyes in the darkness. Unnerving to most, but you could see the way red crept up the collar of his tunic, under the straps of leather promise. "My man wouldn't come home without bringing back something good. As an apology for leaving his poor beloved all alone in this big, empty (Link snorted, because empty? really?) house."

Link's smirk twitched, resisting the urge to drop into a fond smile at your poor excuse of a hook and reel. He bit anyway, because how could you not when you seemed so proud of your little comeback.

"My apologies, most beloved in all the land." That you rolled your eyes at. "Let this humble knight make amends to his Angel." The words rolled so smoothly off his tongue as he fell back on his little used mannerisms.

Turning to face you fully, he beckoned you to him with a single raised hand (the one with the red jeweled ring you adored so much), keeping the other at the small of his back. He was bent slightly at the waist, staring up at you with amused, smoldering eyes framed by attractively tussled pink-blonde bangs. Displaying the thick tangle of beauty hanging in a dazzling curtain from his neck, at his collarbone. A choker hidden just at the base of his throat, lined with richly colored gemstones.

How could you refuse a siren's call.

You fell from the supports with careless ease, and with a brief snap of motion, glided on great, gleaming black wings to the floor below. Loose papers flutter at the gentle swish of wind left in your wake, the soft sway of tapestries, pictures and maps a quiet symphony to your passing.

You saw the way his sharp eyes took you in with covetous admiration, locked on the carefully (purposeful) arranged constellation of colorful stars dotted against your perfectly preened feathers and skin. A welcome home gift and a punishment all at once, delicate chains of gold and silver binding many of his most prized treasures close to your skin, your wondrous wings.

You landed before him with the delicate chime of jewels and chains, rearing to your full height in a blatant show of presentation. Raising your neck to display the gorgeous necklaces (his necklaces, his prizes, hard won and kept in the darkest of dungeons) and flicking your ears to rattle the intricate, dangling earrings (collected over a lifetime, by his scarred battle-worn hands) caressing against your neck.

Upon your forehead you could feel the silky sway of your hair ornaments resting in artful waves, lines of thin bands woven into the strains of your locks. The subtle weight of glittering temptation rested upon your wings with confident poise, a masterpiece of flesh and stone.

You held out your left hand to the man (waiting, anticipating). Revealing a thin, polished band upon a singular finger, painstakingly crafted metal so luminescent it glowed even in the daylight. Perfect, but for the warped edge you so adored to run your thumb across on those long, lonely nights (crafted by the hands of the man you love, and offered on one knee with an open, willing heart).

"Well, my knight." You said, smiling around far too many teeth. Hiding the way your heart thundered at the sight of his haggard, sleep deprived but dearly missed face. "Make your amends."

He leaned forward and placed a kiss, slow and lingering, upon the hand of his greatest treasure (having naught the strength to deny himself his longing any longer with his heart's desire so close). "Of course, my most beloved." His placed his forehead to the ring, falling to one knee with a tender smile across his lips. "Whatever you command of me."

And you smiled back, dropping to your knees as well to swoop him into your arms, wings circled around you both in a flutter of constellations. Kissing him on the nose, the game lost before it'd even begun. "Take a bath. You stink."

"Huh!?"

---

Some miles away.

"So. This buisness partner he's talking to." Twilight began (again), trying and failing to stare down the strangely dressed man Legend had summarily dumped them on (again). "Are they really as ruthless as you say?"

Ravio threw his head back, hands on his hips and back straight as he squeaked obnoxiously (mischievously). "The most ruthless I've ever met! The first to ever put Mr. Hero soundly on his knees!" At the other Hero's widened eyes, the merchant waved a dismissive hand. "Fear not though! Mr. Hero is experienced with their cunning ways! He won't be taken advantage of so easily a second time!"

"Still-" Twilight started, only to be stopped by a large, assuring hand on his shoulder.

"He's got this Rancher." Time said, an impish gleam in his eye that went unnoticed by the twilight hero. "He's Legend, after all."

After a brief, silent stare Twilight eventually conceded with a small, teasing smile. "You're right. He probably doesn't want us to see him getting bested in his own time, is all."

"Yeah." Time hummed agreeably as he cast a knowing smirk at the hooded merchant. "That's what it is." He winked, or blinked (or maybe he did nothing at all). Hard to tell with only one eye.

Behind the hood, Ravio rolled his own eyes, exasperated.

'You owe me so many rupees when I get back, Crow!'

"Hey? Where's Hyrule?"

"Wasn't he with you?"

"No! Wild had him!"

"Had Who?"

'If I ever get back!'

---

Back to the shadows to rest my weary mind.

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #legend x reader #winged reader

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ellssbellss · 1 year

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Lavender Roses ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

pairing ~ Kyoya Ootori x Reader

In which a rational head hides a generous heart, but you have always known how to see past his walls and help him bloom into the gorgeous rose he is. Enjoy a slow burn between an honor student and our beloved glasses character!

Happy 1 year to Lavender Roses and this entire, wonderful blog. Without you, this story wouldn't have reached as many people as it has. From the bottom of my heart, thank you so much.

-> summary: "But not anymore. You haven’t been alone for a long time, (Y/n), not since you joined the club. Not since you met me."

-> word count: 8.3k

tw! the scene on the cliff gets a little intense, mentions of blood, demeaning language against women, slight PTSD, weaponry (knives), verbal assault, physical assault, sexual misconduct. kyoya is dumb and so are you.

legend:

(M/n) - mother's name

(n/l) - native language

(s/c) - skin color

see masterlist! masterlist

taglist! @abbysblogsstuff @sunukissed @kisskissshutmydoor @idonia-dovahkiin @greensnakegoblep @vervainnnn @desert-fern @delievia @obeythemasters @luca-nightshade @sweetandsourwrites @wrzloyd @1234567890nono @inactivecrofters @katiebwalczak03 @reader3 @radical-bunny @stevexbucky404 @localgaytrainwreck

The Sun, The Sea, and The Host Club! pt. 2

Kyoya lounges as he writes, a foreign feeling of contentment wrapped around his frame.

Soft bursts of images sift through his mind, you over his lap, your arm on his side while his gravitates towards your hip. How close your mouth was to his and how badly he wanted to taste it. How he had basically lunged at the chance, not that you were complaining.

That had caught him off guard.

As he was writing, the megane realized he had never been a fan of romance. Above multiple reasons, he never saw the point. His father and mother had married for business instead of love, creating an environment where affection was not celebrated or practiced. He would see couples in the hallway and roll his eyes, thinking that they were wasting their time.

When he voiced these opinions one evening to his sister Fuyumi, she gasped.

“Kyoya! You really think love is a waste of time?”

“It’s a chemical reaction, Fuyumi, that’s all.” He had explained in a monotone voice, barely giving her any attention as he was typing away at his computer. “Your brain releases a certain neurotransmitter when you find someone attractive and compatible, and it tricks you into thinking you’re in love. Companies leech off this, creating Valentine’s Day, cards, encouraging weddings and all this nonsense.”

He pushes his glasses up on the bridge of his nose. “I am not one to be fooled, and I will certainly not allow myself to be tricked by my own mind.”

Kyoya ended his bored rant with an amused chuckle, feeling sorry for the suckers out there who lost precious time and money on something that could never really last, at least not forever.

But Fuyumi just stood there, leaning against the doorway with a small smile on her face as she looked at her oblivious brother, too young to take the world as seriously as he did.

“You can tell me that when you meet a wonderful man or woman, and we will see how you feel about how you want to spend your time.”

Kyoya scoffed. “Please, how I feel is irrelevant. My work is what deserves my time, end of story.”

Then his phone rang, and he paused his typing to see a contact picture flashing on the screen. Leaving his chair, he had walked to the door of his bedroom as he answered the call.

“Hello, give me one second, please.” Then he turned to her, a little brother shoving his sister out of his room.

“Goodnight, Fuyumi.” The door closed behind him with a clack, and Fuyumi heard her brother pick up his conversation as he disappeared into his room. “Hello, (Y/n), thank you for calling me back…”

Kyoya smirked as he came back to the sounds of the beach, waves and laughing people filling his ears as his thoughts ran away with him.

He had met a wonderful girl. And he could barely fathom how he was lucky enough to understand the feeling his sister was talking about. The pull he had to you was intense, and it was something he had never experienced with anyone before.

The sun had reflected off of your (e/c) irises so perfectly in that moment, and the short distance had enticed him heavily, that the pull tugged and tugged.

He hadn’t even confessed yet, and you had somehow convinced him to give in to his own temptations.

“Kyoya! What should I do?!”

The ravenet broke out of his thoughts as his best friend ran towards him, arms holding a bucket of snakes in their grasp.

Kyoya simply arched his brow.

“I wanted to scare Haruhi and (Y/n) with these rat snakes, but the twins said that anyone would find them creepy, so it wasn’t a true weakness! And now I don’t know what to do!” Tamaki whined, his voice rising as he shuffled on his feet, anxious about the snakes in his grasp.

The club director’s spectacled gaze fell onto the snakes, twisting inside the plastic bucket without a care in the world. Taking a closer look, he let out a deep sigh.

“Those aren’t rat snakes, Tamaki. They are poisonous Habu snakes.” Kyoya turns back to his book. “Rat snakes aren’t even native to Okinawa.”

“What?!” Suddenly, the prince of the host club is running around in circles, whining while juggling the bucket in his hands. “What do I do with them?! C’mon, Kyo, you gotta help me out!”

“Tamaki, Kyoya!”

Both boys freeze as they watch Haruhi race towards them, her feet kicking up sand as she meets them at the chair.

She’s breathing heavily, her eyes wide with fright and worry as she heaves. “Help, please, you’ve gotta help me.”

Forgetting about the bucket completely, Tamaki rushed over to Haruhi, pulling her close to him to try to ease some of her worries. “What is it, Haruhi? Are you hurt? What do you need?”

“It’s (Y/n). I thought we could handle it, but things got out of control. She told me to come get you.”

“What?” Kyoya sits up on his chair, quelling the anxiety in his chest. He admired Haruhi for being a girl who is very put together, so for her to fight the fear in her voice so adamantly is concerning. “Is she okay?”

“What’s wrong with (Y/n)?” Tamaki says calmly and firmly, trying to get some answers out of his panicking honor student.

“These boys! They were- they-, god just follow me!” Flustered she turns around, sprinting away from the two hosts.

Kyoya and Tamaki rush in pursuit, agony filling into their chests.

As the cliff comes into view, Kyoya catches Haruhi’s concerned gaze rise to the top of it, his own eyes following. Three shadowy figures struggle in the sunset, and his heart plummets as one of them is pushed to the high edge.

In the distance, a piece of fabric lies stagnant in the sand, and Kyoya curses as he passes by it. A Hawiian shirt, ripped and torn as it lies helplessly in the sand.

“No, no wait. Stop!” You struggle as Ren pushes you back, your heels leaving the ground as he holds you over the cliff's edge.

“Yeah, yeah, you know what?” The alcohol on his breath is rancid as he sneers, Aoi grinning behind him. “I ain’t got time for difficult chicks like you. Might as well leave you out to sea.” He jostled you, and relished in the way you flinched.

“Don’t! Don’t, please, don’t. It’s too much. Please, don’t let me go.”

“Oh, now you’re begging for me to hold you? Where was this a few seconds ago, sweetheart?”

“(Y/n)!” Hearing Tamaki’s voice was sweeter than any cake that Honey could’ve given you, making you want to cry out in relief as you looked behind the two thugs.

Ren and Aoi freeze as you see Haruhi, Kyoya and Tamaki round the corner of the bottom of the cliff, concern and determination shining in their visages.

Meeting Kyoya’s gaze, you wriggle around some more, trying your best to shove Ren off of you without any friction below you. “Tamaki! Kyoya! They’re going to-”

You're quieted with a hand covering your mouth, Ren shouting in your face. “Be quiet! We aren’t doing anything!”

Kyoya’s jaw clenched at your plea, and he pumps his legs into a faster run, trying to get to you as you are, dear god, dangled off a cliff. “Let go of her!”

Aoi turns to Ren, and you see panic in his eyes as your three heroes charge up the rocks. “Ren, we gotta go. Like now, they don’t look happy.”

“Shut up, I know that.” Ren snarls before he forces a grin and turns to the boys, holding you up by one hand now.

“You want me to let go? Well, whatever you say.”

“No!” Kyoya called, but it was too late.

Ren’s fingers go limp, any tension that was holding you up above the waters below disappearing as the fabric of your bathing suit slips from his grasp.

The air whipped around you as you watch the cliff get smaller and smaller, plummeting towards your greatest fear. You feel a scream bubble up to the opening of your throat, but no noise dares to release, shock taking over your entire body.

Cold, sharp pains spider through your back as you hit the water, knocking all the wind out of your lungs in one single splash. The feeling of watery nothingness surrounds your skin as it pricks you. At the waterpark, the lazy river had tried to pull you into its flow, desperately and immaturely trying to take its next victim.

But the ocean was experienced, eerily calm as it let you sink. And sink. Wrapping its deep silence around your form, you don’t think you’ll ever stop sinking.

And as you begin to cry at the thought, water fills your lungs.

“(Y/n)!” Haruhi tried to call, but you were already out of sight, plunging into the water below. Panic clouded Kyoya’s mind as he ran, all of his thoughts zeroed in on the conversation that he had just had with you minutes before.

I just don’t like the idea of being deprived of oxygen. Then I’d just sink, and be lost.

And now you were lost to him, falling into something you so desperately had tried to avoid.

In his pursuit, a hooded man, much shorter than Kyoya, tried to step in his way. The kid grabbed at him, and any anger Kyoya had in his body went into a singular push, sending the man tumbling to the side. “Get out of my way.”

Reaching the edge, Kyoya didn’t think twice. Discarding his precious glasses to the side, Kyoya shoved the problem of the disgusting man in the red shirt out of the way, and took the dive.

Long and lanky, he arched into the dive, his nearsightedness making it so your figure was just a blur from this distance, but he targeted it. His palm reached out and willed you to be closer, willed you to be okay.

“(Y/n)!” He called as your fuzzy figure disappeared into the ocean with a harsh slap, the sound echoing in his ears. Kyoya’s own fall ended as he dipped into the water soon after, cursing his terrible vision as he looked around.

A relieved exhale presented itself in bubbles when he finally saw you, drifting limply as the current pulled you along. Kicking hard, Kyoya stretched his muscles and his lungs as he held his breath, fighting against the density of the water. As he got closer, his stomach turned when he saw a small vein of red seeping from a cut in your leg, which only made him swim faster towards you.

Finally, his hand grasped your floating one, and in one quick movement, pulled you against his chest. With your weight against him, his logical mind rebooted, and he tucked your head under his chin as he swam up to the surface.

“(N/n)-chan!”

“Kyoya-senpai!”

The voices seemed so distant, your skin clammy and gooseing against the beach air. Something was moving you, you could feel a familiar pressure against the small of your back and behind your knees, but it didn’t distract from the wave.

Your blood waved, splashing and swaying against the walls of your veins. It felt like your muscles had melted into liquid, and you were still in the pool, being bobbed and pulled into the black of the ocean.

But then there was a shade of orange behind your lids, and blinking made it brighter. Something dragged over them still, tugging your eyes open as the sky moved above you.

Tufts of black hair and a very sharp jawline were the next visions to come into your view, and the waving stopped, replaced by the firm steps of Kyoya carrying you to safety.

“Kyo…” Your voice was hoarse, raw from unconsciously coughing up water as soon as you had reached the surface.

He didn’t respond, his gray eyes covered by his wet hair, but his grip on you tightened ever so slightly.

Instead, he looked forward towards what you would assume to be your friends, but you were too focused on the deep orange the sunset casted across the clouds.

“Where’d they go?”

“We took their ID cards and asked them to leave, not before showing them what’s for.” A voice said. Hikaru..yeah, Hikaru.

“The girls went back to the hotel and Mori called a doctor. He should be here any minute.” Kaoru follows like he always does, and the comfort of their routine brought you back to reality, especially when they mentioned the doctor.

“I’m fine, guys. I really don’t want to see a doctor.” You say, sighing as you leave Kyoya’s grasp. When your feet hit the solid ground of packed sand, you wobbled a bit, and Tamaki came into your line of sight.

His arms helped steady you, but he didn’t let go as you straightened out. “What were you thinking?”

Still a little dazed, your brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“Tamaki, stop.” Haruhi says as she stands next to you, giving you one of her jackets to wrap around yourself.

“No, no.” Tamaki’s voice is low, collected. It shook you. “What were either of you thinking? You know, you aren’t martial arts masters like Honey and Mori-senpai.”

“Duh, don’t you think I know that?” You chuckle a bit, trying to lighten the mood, but you’re getting more and more frustrated by your best friend’s accusatory tone.

“You think this is funny?” Your prince is in disbelief as he raises his hands from your shoulders to the base of your neck. “Why did you confront them? What made you think you could stand a chance? You against two boys?”

“It doesn’t matter if they were boys and I’m a girl. They were harassing our guests, they needed to be stopped!” The emotional toll that today’s events have taken wore down your patience, and now you’re raising your tone, lacing it with betrayal and disbelief.

“We were there, Tamaki, we had to do something!” Haruhi takes a stand, trying to talk some sense into your best friend.

“That’s no excuse, you idiots! Don’t forget that you are girls!”

“Kyoya.” Turning, you look back at your director for some support. “Tell him we did the right thing.”

But there is no answer. Kyoya just stands there with his arms folded, his mouth formed into a straight, formidable line, securing all of his thoughts behind a single wall. Water drips off the ends of his hair onto his toned torso as his jaw clenches, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Kyoya?”

“You ran into a situation unprepared, unyielding, and irresponsibly. You put yourself in danger, self-sacrificing your safety for the needs of three girls you barely know.”

If Tamaki’s serious tone was shaking, Kyoya’s was chilling. It was cold, unrelenting as it jabbed into your heart with every syllable. “Are you mad at me right now? After you jumped off a cliff to save me?”

“I wouldn’t have had too, if you had been as smart as I thought you were.”

Defensiveness burns inside you. “I did what had to be done! Yes, it wasn’t safe, but it was me or those girls, and I couldn’t let them get hurt.”

“But you could put yourself at risk?”

“It’s different!”

“How?” With haunting grace, Kyoya outstretched his hand in order for Hikaru to place his lenses into his palms. Using the fabric from his shorts, he cleans them off the best he can, and slips them onto his nose. “The worry you felt for those girls when they were grabbed, and the worry that not only I, but everyone here felt for you when they saw you dangled at the edge of a cliff, you tell me how those are different.”

Heaving a heavy sigh, you run your hands over your face, not being able to put your feelings into words. “It just is. And I’m sorry you had to come save me, but I can’t understand why you’re so mad at me right now.”

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

“I don’t think I did anything wrong!”

At that, Kyoya’s piercing gaze sharpens, and you see his adam's apple bob, a signal that he is calling upon his immeasurable self-control. “You don’t think so? Fine.”

He steps forward, walking towards you and then brushing your shoulder as he passes your form.

“Kyoya, where-?”

“I don’t think we can speak again until you can admit that you were wrong.”

And with that, his form becomes a spot in the distance as he leaves you in the dusk.

Soon, you left the others to wander around Kyoya’s guest house aimlessly. You frowned at every framed picture of his family, even ones where he was young and round, not sharpened by what his world had to offer.

You climbed to the second floor, only to come to a line of doors.

“Bedrooms…” you confirmed under your breath, running your hands along the wall as you passed them. “But…which one..?”

On the door handle on the second room from the end of the hall, a yellow rose was tied around it, welcoming and ironic all at once.

A sad smile came to your face as you plucked it off the knob, then turned it, still holding it in your grasp as you entered the room.

The room was generic, but you noticed a bouquet of yellow roses sat on the bed, tied with a lavender ribbon. There was a note in the gorgeous arrangement, and you plucked it out from it’s stand.

Dear (Y/n),

My room is the one at the end of the hall, next door to this one. Should you need anything, you may let me know, and it will be done.

Have a restful night.

Sincerely,

Kyoya Ootori

Swallowing, you set the note down and fiddle with the petals of the roses, Haruhi’s jacket softly brushing against your wet form. That note must’ve been written before everything had gone down, and your heart turned a little at the thought of him coming in here and placing these here with care, knowing how touched you would be when you saw it.

Putting them on the nightstand, you drag yourself to your shower. While the hot water runs down your body, you rest your head against the tiles, trying to think your way through this.

Tamaki was frustrated, Kyoya was pissed, and Haruhi was almost hurt. Everything today had been overshadowed by a single action by two terrible people, and you hated it. The drama that had been going on lately, and the stress of the dinner with your family and Arai, had left you tired, emotionally and mentally. To make it worse, the person you wanted to talk to the most about everything that was going on in your head currently was not talking to you.

Lifting your head, you let the water splash onto your face before getting out and dressing into something that was finally more your speed. The week had been full of dressing you to the nines for the perception of others, but as you prepared to have dinner with your friends (or who you hoped were still your friends), you could wear something that expressed who you were, not who someone wanted you to be.

As you fixed your face and hair, a knock sounded at your door, methodic as it rang against the wood.

You almost wanted to ignore it, but the possibility of Kyoya being on the other side was too intriguing, and you rushed to the door, calming down before coolly opening it.

“So, now you decide to-oh. Hey.” Hiding your slight disappointment, you look up to see Mori standing in your doorway. “What’s up, Mori-senpai?”

“Dinner’s ready.” His mouth is curved a little at one side, and you can tell he’s trying to be a little more joyful for you, considering everything that happened.

He then raises his hand from his side, and presents an Ootori Hospital First Aid Kit. “Kyoya wanted me to give this to you. For your leg.”

Eyebrows raising, you take the kit. Throughout the drama, you forgot about the cut Ren had made on your calf. Seeing it now, the salt water helped stop the bleeding, and it was scabbed over, now just serving as a reminder of what you had gotten yourself into.

“Thank you, Mori.” Your gratitude came out as a sigh as you set the med kit down, and Mori watched as your form slouched ever so slightly.

“(Y/n).”

“Hm?” Looking up at him, he swallowed at the tiredness in your eyes. Doing what he thought was right, you felt the stoic place a comforting hand on your head.

“I can teach you. So can Mistukuni.”

“Teach me? Teach me what?”

“How to protect yourself.”

Two times you had been subjected to the whims of a confused, angered man. And both times, no matter how you had tried to fight against them, you were still untrained, still ignorant of the ways to use your power to its fullest potential. This time, when you looked back at your friend, your eyes glimmered.

“Really?”

A firm nod came from the tall man, and you couldn’t help the sigh of relief that expelled out of you. Arms opening, you reach out and hug Mori around his waist, nuzzling into his long frame.

“Thank you, Mori.”

The hand on your head tightened for a moment before he stepped back. “I’m gonna go get Haruhi, and we’ll walk down together, yeah?”

Nodding, you step out of your room, closing the door behind you. “Yeah, sounds good.”

The minute Haruhi had stepped out of her room, your eyes lit up.

A pretty pink nightgown draped over her shoulders, ruffles shooting out the side of her collarbone. She looked beautiful and elegant, and it was refreshing to see her out of the clothes that reminded you of the fight on the cliff.

And if you thought she was beautiful, the rest of the hosts clearly didn’t disagree.

As the three of you stepped out into the dining hall, the twins immediately shot up, mouths agape as Haruhi glided into the room.

Even Honey smiled as he stood on the chair of his seat, milk chocolate eyes glittering with the sight of her.

“Woah!” The boy-lolita said, and you stepped aside as he and the twins surrounded the honor student, complimenting her as she smiled gratefully.

Turning towards the long dining table, you see two figures. Tamaki fights the blush on his face as he stares at Haruhi, but still chooses to sulk at his place at the table. His purple eyes meet yours, and then they slide down, and your stomach coils as he turns himself off to you.

Daring to glance at the person sitting across from your prince, Kyoya leans into his chair, his black journal perfectly perched on his lap as he writes, and you swallow.

Knowing that Tamaki was a ticking time-bomb, you take your chances, walking up to the Shadow King.

“Is this seat taken?”

No response. Looking around, you see name cards propped against the plates, your name clearly written in a very familiar cursive. Must’ve been the preparations he had made before.

“Looks like it is now.” You say awkwardly, shuffling the chair out and sitting down next to the ravenet. “I, uh, I got your note. And the roses. They were really beautiful.”

His pen pauses, and his dark eyes lift over his pages to stare into space. Then Kyoya’s eyes shift down, and his writing continues.

Folding your fingers over, you wait silently as the other hosts fawn over Haruhi, literally twirling your thumbs. Tamaki is sitting across from you, avoiding your eyes. Rolling your eyes, you twist your mouth as you try to catch his gaze, and being the pushover he is, he holds it after a moment.

You tilt your head, sitting aggressively back in your chair. You’re mad at me too, now?

Violet eyes roll. He’s not mad at you, just hurt. Talk to him, mon ami.

You think I haven’t tried?

Clearly, you didn’t try hard enough. Flipping his blonde hair away from his eyes, your best friend gives you an incredulous look. The man jumped off of a cliff for you.

I didn’t ask him to do that.

You wouldn’t have done the same for us?

Your lips part a little, but you look away for a second before meeting his eyes again. A blonde eyebrow raises and Tamaki rests his chin in his hand.

I would’ve jumped off that cliff too if Kyoya hadn’t beaten me to it. We’ve all been through a lot today. Violet eyes are drawn back to the host in pink, and you sigh as they become distant.

Reaching across the table, you tap it lightly, hearing the writing beside you pause for a moment as Tamaki looks back at you.

You’re not going to tell her she looks nice? I figured you would’ve been all over that dress.

We aren’t speaking right now.

Your expression morphs into one of disbelief and slight annoyance. What? Why?

She acted childish, running up there with absolutely no regard for herself.

So did I, and you’re talking to me.

Deadpanning, he smacks his lips together. This isn’t talking! We probably look like crazy people right now.

A small smile takes up the corner of your lips, and he simpers back. Plus, I can’t stay mad at you.

Your eyebrows raise, an equivocal gaze clouding your eyes as you glance over to Haruhi and the twins. I doubt you can stay mad at her.

He straightens his back as a blush rises to his cheeks as Haruhi’s skirt swishes with her movements as the rest of the hosts make their way to the dinner table. She sits down next to him, a challenging look on her face as she spies on him from the corner of her eye.

Tamaki narrows his gaze and turns back to face you, a sigh rolling through his lungs. We’ll see.

The twins pull out a chair and sit, Kaoru to your right and Hikaru to his. After everyone gets situated, plates are filled with delicious looking crab legs and side dishes, creating an array of a colorful feast.

Cracking shells filled the air as no one bothered to speak, the tension of the room encasing your group into a box of crushing glass. Haruhi began to make a pile of empty shells on her plate, sending the prince that sat next to her in a state of disbelief.

Digging into your own dinner, you look over to your left to see Kyoya still writing, his portion of the catch of the day remaining untouched.

“You’re not eating?” Your voice raises barely above a whisper, afraid that if you broke the silence, the tenuous glass of tension would come crashing down on you.

Not even a glance from the megane. You send a pleading glance to your friend across from you, but Tamaki shrugs. Third times the charm?

Putting your cheek in your teeth, you try to get closer, pulling a strategy that has worked before. “What’re you writing about? Can I see?”

You sulk as Kyoya turns away from you, bending the spine of his book so that the pages are fully covered from your view.

Kaoru, having seen the whole thing, gave a wide eyed look to his brother. “Well this is uncomfortable.”

“Yeah, kind of awkward.” Says his twin.

Defeated, you sit back, smiling weakly as Kaoru puts a few extra crab legs from his plate onto yours.

Pleasured grumbles interrupt your self-pity as you and the twins look across the table to see Haruhi demolishing crab legs. Everytime she opened her mouth, she made an ‘ah’ sound, a blush coming onto her cheeks as she relished in the seafood taste.

“Oh my god,” bits of crab fall onto the corner of her mouth as she groans. “These crabs…taste in-crab-ible.” A cute, muffled chuckle escapes out of her full mouth as her stack of crab shells continues to grow. “Get it?”

Tamaki is caught in the splash zone, shells and crab crumbs being tossed into his space as he sits next to her. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough? Geez, Haruhi, give it a rest.”

“Hm?” Her sarcastic tone goes up in pitch as she fills her stomach with more crustaceans. “I thought you weren’t speaking to me.”

A tick appears inside the veins of Tamaki’s forehead as he grumbles. “You trying to be cute?”

Haruhi just shoots him a victorious side eye, taking another huge bite of her food.

Something broke inside the prince and he sighed harshly, slamming his napkin on the table as he rose. “Okay, fine. I get it. It seems you refuse to admit that you were wrong.”

He pushes out his chair, putting his hands in his pockets. “See if I care then, I’m going to bed. Kyoya?”

A voice that must’ve been foreign to you by now sounds a hum as Kyoya stops his writing immediately, giving all of his attention to Tamaki.

“Will you show me to my room, please?”

“With pleasure.” Kyoya then stands, an aura of nonchalance cascading into your space as he slides by you. “Excuse me, everyone.”

An air of ice surrounds you as Kyoya doesn’t give you a sparing glance, his cold shoulder sending a shiver down your spine while he and Tamaki walk out of the dining room, the large doors closing behind them.

Haruhi’s confidence dissipates as she watches her prince leave the room. Swallowing her food, she sadly cracks a new crab leg, the overconfident display now being replaced by a sincere realization.

“Maybe he’s right. Maybe I should learn to protect myself.”

Looking towards Mori, you share her sentiment. “Yeah, it might be a good idea.” You say, relaxing into your seat.

Hikaru and Kaoru reflect each other as they put their heads in their hands, giving the both of you empathetic glances. “So that’s it, they got to you, huh?”

Nodding, you look down. “Kyoya can be cold, sure, but he’s never just ignored my existence. Maybe I could take a class or something, I don’t know.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to learn martial arts…” Haruhi thinks out loud, now only picking at the food she had been devouring moments ago.

“But that’s not the real issue here.” The twins say, folding their arms onto the table.

“To be honest, we were all a little worried about how recklessly you two acted.”

Looking up from your plate, you and Haruhi both shoot Hikaru a confused glance.

“What do you mean?” You ask, bending around Kaoru to mee Hikaru’s gaze. “We didn’t cause you guys any trouble or anything.”

“Are you serious right now?” Kaoru asks, giving you a disbelieving look.

“Yeah, I mean you guys didn’t have to sprint up a cliff to help (Y/n) and fix my mistakes,” Haruhi reasons. “So you guys were fine, right?”

“That’s not true, Haru-chan.” Honey kneels on to the seat of his chair, his palms resting on the table as leans forward. “I think you guys should apologize, kay?”

“We were all worried, of course, but Kyoya-senpai and the Boss almost had a heart attack.” Kaoru says, speaking with his hands as he waves his fork around.

“We think you need to apologize to them the most. Both of you.” Hikaru states, the hand under his chin moving to support his cheek.

“But you were worried about us?” The twins looked to their side to see your eyes switching between the both of them. “But why?”

That earns you a deadpanned look from the brothers before Hikaru drops his head on the back of his chair, and Kaoru rests his head on your shoulder with a whine. “You’re both hopeless.”

A small chuckle rises out of you as you rest your head on top of the sneaky twin’s, your mind flashing through the previous events.

Stubbornly, you knew that you had done the right thing, and that you would’ve made the same choice if you were given a second chance.

But then you imagined the boy on your shoulder being grabbed by his shirt, hung over the edge of a cliff reaching higher than you thought it could reach, and your gut twisted. Then the image flashed to where Honey was held and Mori was running after him, or Hikaru, then Tamaki.

Then Kyoya. And you immediately understood their worry.

Swallowing wetly, you took a shuddering breath. “I’m sorry you guys.”

The twins raise their brow in surprise, and when Haruhi voices her apology too, it melts into a content simper.

“Awe, come here you little runt.” Somehow pulling you and Haruhi out of your chairs and into their arms, the hosts embrace you in a tight group hug.

“Don’t get all soft on us now, (Y/n).” The twins say as Honey rubs his cheek against a smiling Haruhi. You laugh and push them off, just in time to see the natural type’s face fall as her color disappears.

Hikaru notices immediately, holding her side. “Is something wrong?”

Haruhi’s stomach makes a concerning gurgle. “I don’t feel so good.”

And that was how Haruhi ended up in your bathroom, heaving her guts out in your toilet.

You’re sat on your bed as you hear the toilet flush, looking out one of the massive windows in the room as the moonlight lets itself in.

The light from your bathroom seeps into the space as Haruhi walks out, weakly falling onto your bed with a light thud. There’s a beat of silence as she flips over, both of you lost in your own thoughts.

“We kind of fucked up, huh?” You joke, still looking out at the ocean as it calmly waved against the shoreline.

“Yeah. We did.”

“Who do you think we should apologize to first?” You ask, meeting her eye line as she continues to focus on the popcorn ceiling.

She just shrugs, at a loss for the next step. “Should we go together? Or one at a time?”

“Probably one at a time. I’ll go to one, and you go to the other, and then we can just switch.” Sheepishly, you sigh. “Besides, I think that I have a little more to apologize for.”

“It could’ve been either of us, (Y/n).” Her low voice echoes off the walls. “If you had run in front of me, it would’ve been me who would’ve gotten thrown over.”

Another small silence blankets over you before you nodded your head sharply. “If we’re gonna do this, we gotta do it now.”

Haruhi props herself up on her elbows as she watches you push off the bed, an air of confidence surrounding you. “Now?”

“Now.” You stop in the mirror, checking yourself over to make sure you are presentable. “We will get the hard ones out of the way. You apologize to Tamaki, and I’ll apologize to Kyoya.”

“You sure you’re not rushing into things?”

“Nope! Just gotta get it over with.” Head held high, you walk out the door with Haruhi on your heels, picking up the first aid kit so you could return it to its owner.

You and Haruhi walk from your door to the end of the hallway, a lavender rose on one and a red rose on the other. Stopping in front of your respective hosts doors, you each raise a fist, preparing to knock.

“Ready?” You ask.

“Ready.” She sounds confident, affirming.

Then each of you turn around and switch places, losing gusto as you walk into Tamaki’s room.

Knocking softly as Haruhi enter’s Kyoya’s room, you step into the prince’s chambers, searching for the signature strands of blonde hair.

He jumps from his corner, the phone to his ear tumbling out of his grasp as you spook him with your entrance. Blowing out a breath, Tamaki runs a hand through his hair, tuning back into his conversation.

“Yes, Grandmother.” Your heart sinks as his tone loses the flamboyant flair you had come to enjoy. “I understand. Goodnight.”

Hanging up the phone, he turns back to you as he hangs up the phone. With a hand on his hip, your regular scheduled Tamaki is up and running, an exaggerated frown on his face. “You can’t just barge into a man’s room like that, mon ami! Think of your manners!”

Looking down, your fingers tighten on the med kit in your hands. You chuckle at his words, but it quickly quiets when you remember what you came in here to do.

Since you chickened out of one apology, the least you could do was try to get through this one.

Raising your eyes to meet his, blonde eyebrows rise as he senses utter sincerity in your gaze

“Tamaki, I’m so sorry for making you worry.” Earnest honesty blends into your words as you pour your apologies out to him. “Everything happened so fast, and I wasn’t thinking straight when I saw those men try to take advantage of those girls. I just got so mad, ya know? No one deserves to be treated like that.”

Tamaki parts his mouth, but sees that you have more to say, and closes it.

“Haruhi and I tried to run, but they caught the back of my shirt – well, it was Kyoya’s shirt because he let me borrow it earlier today – and I was forced into a fight or flight mode.”

“And you chose to fight.” The prince’s hands pocketed themselves into his jeans.

Nodding, your actions became a little frenzied. “I wasn’t going to be helpless again, not like that time in the dressing rooms during the physical exam. I can take care of myself, and I wanted him to know it. I wanted him to know I am strong and independent and I wasn’t going to let them do whatever they wanted to me.”

An annoyed sigh shot out of you as the moments on that cliff replayed in your mind. “But one of the guy’s had a knife!” You gesture to your leg. “And it all got out of hand so quickly that it seemed like I blinked and all of a sudden I was being held over an endless sea. I was stupid, and reckless, but I just wanted to help and save them, save myself that I completely–”

Your face collided with a shirt, soft and lavender-scented as your best friend embraced you. Your rapid heartbeat echoed against the close proximity of his chest before it slowed, and you breathed as you wrapped your arms around him. It was a tight embrace as one of your palms grabbed onto the cloth of his button down like a lifeline while the other pressed the med kit into his back.

“I’m sorry.” The apology is muffled as you nuzzle against him.

Pulling back, Tamaki looks down at you with a gentleness only he could provide. He grabs your hand and pulls you to an empty chair. “Here. Sit down.”

Brow furrowing, you sit as the large, red loveseat molds to your tired body, and you fight against your instinct to melt into the cushions.

Your confusion takes precedence, though, as Tamaki sits on the floor below you, crossing his legs before holding out his hand. “The med kit?”

Once you hand it to him, he pops it open and scans over the supplies. He stretches his hands and cracks some knuckles before shaking them around, as if they had been asleep for hours and he was trying to wake them up.

“I might not be good at all the medical stuff like Kyoya, but I can clean up a scratch or two.”

A light giggle rolls out of you as an intense look of concentration sculpts into his features. Setting everything he thinks he needs to the side, he opens his palm again. “May I?”

Rolling your eyes, your heart blooms at your friend's gentle touch as he begins to try and fix what you broke, even if that was what you had come here to do in the first place.

Eventually, Tamaki breaks the silence that had lulled over the two of you as he applies a cleaner to your cut. “That was my grandmother on the phone.”

Wincing at the medicine bubbling out of the cut, you nod. “I heard. I didn’t know if you wanted to talk about it.”

“There’s not much to say.” In comes another rare instance like the one at the Tiki Bar. An aura of calm maturity takes the prince’s form as he sits in front of you, completely concentrated at the task at hand. “She was angry, like usual.”

“Did she yell at you again?”

His nod twists your heart on its chambers, but his eyes flick up at you to stop you from giving him any pity before going back to the task at hand. “She is an angry woman. She was widowed when she was young and since then has had a pessimistic perspective on life.” A sad sigh escapes him, but he still manages to keep a serene smile on his face. “She is not a woman I will ever completely understand, but I think, for the rest of her life, I will always strive too. While I may never be on her good side, I want to always put my best foot forward and keep my mind open, so that I might see the world through her eyes. Understand what she is dealing with even if I don’t agree with her actions.” His chest shakes with a low laugh. “It seems I’m stuck doing that for all the women in my life.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m telling you I understand.” Tamaki rifles through the bandaids and picks one that must’ve come from some sort of Valentine’s Day collection: shiny, red hearts with a white background.

He places it gently over the scratch Ren had left you with, running his thumb across it in a loving gesture. “You were put in a terrible situation, and you did the only thing you, (Y/n), are programmed to do. Survive.”

His fingers swim through his hair again, and his violet eyes are swimming with genuine kindness with a hint of concern that you don’t think will ever fade away. “You're always by yourself. Your parents leave you alone in your home enough times, and you learn to depend on only yourself, because no one else has ever stepped up to the plate. You never call any of us for help, even when we are so close, until it’s too late. Until you realize that you pushed yourself too far.”

Leaning up, Tamaki puts his hands on the arms of the chair as he becomes eye-level with you. “I get it now.” A soft smile curls onto his handsome features. “I’m sorry I yelled at you on the beach. You grew up without relying on anyone else.”

Your eyes had gone wide and began to shine as Tamaki stood to his full height and held a hand out to you. “But not anymore. You haven’t been alone for a long time, (Y/n), not since you joined the club. Not since you met me.

Emotion wells up in your throat, making it hard to swallow as you quickly take his palm, jumping into his arms again with vigor. You feel him chuckle against you as he lifts you up in the air for a moment before setting you on the ground, your new band aid twinkling in the moonlight.

“So, you forgive me?” You say, wiping the small, joyful tears away before he could see.

“If you can forgive me for comparing you to my grandmother.”

“I was just going to ignore that. It seemed like you were on a roll there.”

You both laugh as Tamaki hands you back the med kit. He taps the top of it with his finger. “I think you need to return this.”

A different kind of feeling stuffed your airflow now as you looked out of Tamaki’s open door to the one across the hall, a lavender rose lacing the doorknob.

“Yeah, yeah I do.”

Feeling your feet begin to drag across Tamaki’s carpet, you force yourself to feel lighter, invigorated by your friend’s words. “Thank you, Tamaki.” You smile up at him as you pass through his doorway.

At your grin, Tamaki squeals in his place. “Awe, you’re so cute, mon ami! No need to thank me, no need at all!”

You simper as you flick him on the nose and close the door behind you, taking the treacherous steps towards the Shadow King’s door.

The feeling of your thumping heart began to ring through your frame, but you willed it to calm down. Looking around, you tried to spot Haruhi in her door frame, waiting for you to be done talking with Tamaki so that she could tag in, but it was so late that she might’ve just fallen asleep. You would understand, especially if her conversation with Kyoya was as emotionally taxing as yours was with Tamaki.

Every nerve stood on end as you raised your hand to knock, but hesitated. Would he be mad if you made so much noise in the middle of the night? Plus, if he had fallen asleep, he wouldn’t just wake up with a simple knock. The man slept like the dead who had turned to stone.

Your hand hovered over the doorknob, careful of the thorns guarding the purple rose. Did he even want to see you?

The image of his softened gaze as it dropped to your lips and then back to your eyes, shrouded in sunset as Kyoya’s hand gently lifted to your waist filled your mind, and it motivated you to turn the knob.

You had to salvage this. All he had asked was for you to admit that you had done something wrong, and now you were prepared to do that. It had taken some convincing, but you were ready to set aside your pride. Besides, to endure another moment of his gaze without the touch of softness he saved just for you would be hell compared to a little bruise on your ego. Maybe he will forgive you for waking him up.

You cringe, knowing you’re being way too optimistic.

The door doesn’t creak, the well-oiled hinges of an Ootori household silently as you sneak into Kyoya’s bedroom, barely opening the door a smidge before you see a shadowy blob on Kyoya’s bed.

Squinting your eyes, you struggle to peer into the darkness, and you open the door another centimeter, letting the light of the hallway bring some illumination to the shadows.

The med kit drops onto the carpet, not a sound adding to the empty soundtrack of this moment.

Shadows merge and billow before defining into bodies. Haruhi’s pink dress comes into view as the small amount of light grasps onto her form, revealing her as she lays wide-eyed on the bed. Her back sinks into Kyoya’s comforter as she looks up, blinking mildly at the form hovering over her.

Long tingles of darkness form into a body you admire, the man you adored caging your best friend under him like a predator. His muscles tense as his arms work to hold his body just above her, his naked torso defined in the contrast of the night.

Haruhi says something you couldn’t possibly hear over the blood pumping through your ears, and you see a smirk curl onto his face as if she said something clever, and Kyoya drags a thumb over his lip.

The image is burned into your skull as you race back to your bedroom, only a wall separating you and the betrayal next door.

Haruhi and Kyoya?

Tears now welled in your eyes as you rushed to the comfort of the bed that wasn’t your bed, in a room that wasn’t your room.

Fuck! Your mind screams as you shove your face into your pillow, rocking back and forth as the picture of them together keeps flashing behind your eyelids, a persistent roll of film filling in all the areas you didn’t see in the dark. How their bodies must be closer now, closer than you and Kyoya ever were.

A hiccup escaped as the pressure in your chest tightened. Kyoya’s aversion to physical touch made it so he constantly kept an arms distance from you. Yet here he was, chest to chest with your best friend who you had grown to love like a sister you never had.

Your fingers dug into the pillow as before you threw it across the room. Yanking the covers over your head, you begged and begged anybody that was listening to turn back time.

Turn it back to the moment on the beach chair, under the umbrella in the glow of the sunset. Rewind to Kyoya serving you your favorite food with his sleeves rolled up, or the two of you linking fingers on a piano bench, the moonlight cascading down his soft smile effortlessly.

A hand claps over your mouth to keep any sob from passing through and sounding through the wall, and you realize that even though the ocean was outside your window, you still couldn’t find your breath.

It seems that Kyoya didn’t deserve to win those pictures after all, because the image that still pulses into your vision causes you to sink into darkness. You find a new worst fear as Kyoya’s name echoes into your mind as you become lost.

Next Time on Lavender Roses!

“I never noticed. Haruhi is perfectly suited to be accepted into an elite all-girl’s school.. And that’s exactly why I can’t let her transfer!”

“But (Y/n)’s been here for years, why does she want to transfer too?!”

A Challenge From Lobelia Girls Academy!

hey there, just wanted to apologize for ruining your day and leaving you in suspense :)

thank you for being so patient, there is always more to come :) comment if you can! i'd love to hear your thoughts.

207 notes · View notes

bokettochild · 1 year

Note

According to my sister, rabbits feel safer when they can’t see.

Just something I thought I’d share :3

Well I WAS just going to coo and give some sort of answer, but this is a rabbit thing and I have a weakness and had some free time sooo......

How about a very barely relevant fic based around a story I heard as a kid and barely remember + this particular idea?

Full fic under the cut

The Selkie King

There are many times it's easy to forget how young his fellow heroes are.

As a soldier, the Hero of Warriors has seen boys and men alike on the field, fighting, dying. He's held many a hand in final moments, his own still stained with blood more than not as final words and regrets are spilled to him by grizzled veterans and terrified teens.

Sometimes, it’s easy to forget that one of his brothers qualifies under both of those titles.

He tries not to see the other heroes like he does his soldiers. Tries to remember them as people and not pawns. It’s hard, after so many years tipping back whiskey to forget the humanity of those he’s had to slay, trying to retrain his mind to seeing others coldly, to remove emotion from his dealings with those who fight beside or against him on the field.

It hurts, getting attached.

He’d made the mistake countless times. Some, he regrets, others, like Mask and Tune, he’d never think twice about.

Still, even with his brothers, even with no regrets given for having let himself care about them; cry for them and treasure them, it’s easy to forget certain realities. It’s easy to forget, when he sees them with weapons in hand and blood dripping from crown to toes, that half of them are merely children themselves, and those who aren’t were hardly even adults when fate stole their lives from them and burdened them instead with the lives of all of Hyrule.

It’s easy to forget that Sky is hardly old enough to be served in a bar, that Twilight is still stumbling through the early years of his twenties. It’s easy to forget that Four and Hyrule are innocent to many of the greatest evils of the adult world, or that Wind- pirate or no- is still only just starting to go through the joys of puberty. It’s easy to forget that even for all of his scarring, Wild is still just barely learning how the world even works, in many ways still a child in his mind even if his memories, what few there are, are those of a man and a soldier.

Time, it’s harder. Time, he still remembers holding in his arms, rocking the kid to sleep because the motion helped, because the promise that he was still small enough to be held to begin with was a precious assurance the poor boy needed to feel secure enough to close his eyes. He’s wiped tears and wrapped injuries and tucked the now older hero in so many times that the child in his mind in many cases has blocked his vision of the man his son has now become.

And then there’s the vet.

Legend isn’t like the other heroes. He’s distant, reserved. There’s almost nothing they know about him save that he carries an arsenal fit for a whole battalion and knows more magic than the lot of them could ever hope to see performed.

He knows the veteran hero as a powerhouse and a threat.

He holds the vet at a distance, just as Legend does with them. Out of all of their group, the pink haired hero is the one with the least to share and the most to say. He's quick to redirect, to refocus, to tease and quip and jest, and despite all, he’s still capable of holding them away from himself with a wariness that makes the captain wary in return.

He’d like to claim that that is why it takes so long for him to realise. He’d like to claim that he'd been distracted by all the red flags, too much to see the similarities. No one would blame him if he’d claimed that his concerns were what prevented him from seeing the truth, but Warriors won’t lie to himself; he just didn’t look close enough.

It’s a night at an inn that opens his eyes. Twilight, Time and Wild usually room together. In a group of nine, it makes sense to get more than one room, and to keep it fair, they have three in each when they can. More often than not, he pays. Unlike his brothers, the captain has a steady salary, and the princess is personally financing his investigation into this increase in monster attacks, so while Legend may claim he’s broke, he does have a hand in the royal purse to use at his discretion. Providing beds for his brothers when they can find them is no issue. Tonight, that means that the wolf trio has their own room. Wind had insisted on having Four and Hyrule room with him, claiming they rarely got a chance to be alone and “without adults” and honestly, Warriors gets it. He trusts the sailor, and he understands the need for space. Granted, rooming with Legend of all people isn’t his first choice, but at least Sky will be there as well, and at least the Chosen Hero is someone they both can get along with, even if neither of them truly have much fondness for each other.

Honestly though, he’s not all too picky about where he lays his head. It’s been a long day, and he’s soaked to the bone, as are they all by the heavy rainfall currently going on. Time says it’s normal for spring in his world. Warriors doesn’t care. There’s mud all up and down his boots, his clothes are clinging to him and Nayru knows the combination of chain mail and rain isn’t pleasant for any of them.

At the least though, Legend’s been quiet today, so maybe there won’t be any hang ups. Hopefully. All Warriors really wants right now is a bed and a change of clothes. Well, he’d like more, but realistically speaking, he’d settle for just a bed and something dry to wear, neither of which are much of a hassle. Getting out of his wet things is a bit of a struggle, and chain mail wasn’t exactly designed for one to be taking off and putting on alone, but Sky is a blessing to Hyrule in general, and the man lends him a hand that Warriors willingly returns while Legend does whatever he does in the background.

He’s just tugging on a new shirt, dry, clean, and only minimally stained with blood, when the first flash of thunder rolls over the inn.

Sky flinches. “I hoped that wouldn’t happen.”

“Unavoidable I’m afraid,” he consoles, clapping his brother’s shoulder firmly. “No worries though. It’s distant.”

Another roll sounds over them.

“It’s moving though,” he muses, the first bolt of lightning flashing across the window and sending strange shadows dancing over the dimly lit room that has only a simple fireplace for both warmth and light. And Hylia knows it gives precious little of either. Ah well, the beds are soft. “Travelling towards us, I think.”

“Wonderful,” Sky drawls, shucking his tunic and then going about peeling off the first of his undershirts. “Just what I wanted.”

He chuckles, meeting Sky’s rueful smile before moving to settle on his bed. He’s not tired yet. Well, bone tired actually, but his mind isn’t ready for sleep and he’s rather inclined to fill out his daily report and maybe enjoy some poetry before actually getting some sleep.

He has the chance for neither. Another clap of thunder sounds and only seconds later there's a bolt of lightning that paints everything, from the bed to the walls to the floor to the ceiling, to their crumpled clothes on the floor, in cold white light.

Legend starts.

The vet’s been a wreck all day, predicting the storm by the ache in his joints alone and watching everything like a hawk. He's been tight lipped too, more so than usual, and not even his characteristic quips and barbs made an appearance as they wandered down soaked paths and sloshed through mud and mire in order to make it to the closest town before nightfall. Warriors hadn’t thought much of it besides that maybe the vet might just be in a lot of pain, but now he’s given a chance to think differently.

Now, Legend starts like a cat whose tail has just been pulled, and, in a motion that honestly surprises the war captain, the vet’s first action is to cover his eyes.

“Vet?” It’s Sky who asks it, but they’re both staring. Trained warriors watch every sudden motion, but that one had been... strangely out of character. “You okay?”

There isn’t an answer, but when the next rumble sounds, he knows he sees the vet tremble.

It’s.... startling.

Not the storm, Hylia knows he’s seen his share of those over the years. A storm like this isn’t even the worst he’s seen, but the vet... cowering- honestly there’s no other word to be used- it's... it’s odd.

“Legend?”

A shuddering breath is his answer, the soles of gnarled hands being pressed ever closer to tightly shut eyes, and suddenly the captain is stuck by the fact that Legend looks very, very young.

The vet is small, they all know this. He's the third shortest in the group, with only a literal child and someone with confirmed stunted growth ranking below him. They don’t have an age, but he’s always assumed, based off of skill and sarcasm, that Legend must be at least in his twenties, if not a bit older. When standing beside Sky, he seems older, beside Time, he’s just as seasoned and strong. Here on a bed in an inn, with lightning and thunder joining the cacophony of rain outside though, he looks like a kid, eyes hidden in his hands and breathing ragged. Warriors can’t name what it is, but he looks like Mask.

“Ledge, hey, you alright?” Sky stares at him for the softened voice, well used to an exchange of heated barbs and insults, but the captain hardly takes note as he crosses from the bed that he’d fully intended to stretch out on to the one the vet sits on, curled up tight and trembling. “Vet, hey,” he’s gentle when he brushes fingertips over slight shoulders, and it’s shaking to realise how small the vet feels when he’s actually touching him.

The title says it all, paints an image of an adult with years under his belt, but the Hero of Warriors tends to forget that many of their number start young, and experience may be one thing, but it’s no promise of age.

“Hey there,” his voice is dropping soft and low without his consent, but he can’t help it when Legend flinches back at the mere brush of his fingers, and when he settles himself on the bed beside and the vet shifts away, he knows the change of tone is for the best.

Sometimes, people who distance themselves aren’t plotting and scheming. Sometimes, people who shy away from transparency are hiding, protecting themselves in the only way they know how. That's how Mask had been, hiding behind masks both physical and metaphorical, sharp tongue and acerbic wit defences against loss and heartbreak.

He’s struck, sitting there, that perhaps the same could be said for others in their number.

“Legend,” he tries again, and then there’s another flash and roll, right overhead this time, and the vet freezes.

“Oh,” Sky breathes, his own lightning scars still on full display as he pauses midway through changing, his own eyes wide as he watches the hero who’s gone from distant and inscrutable to small and childlike in what seems to be the blink of the eye- or, if one wanted to be more direct; a single clap of thunder.

It’s instinct that has his body moving before his mind has quite caught up to what he’s doing with the brother who he knows the least, hands catching slight wrists and dragging away, holding even as breath hitches and shoulders tremble. They cease though when he settles his own hand, so much bigger in comparison, over tightly shut eyes. He can feel the flutter of lashes against his palm, surprise evident as the other pauses, seems to miss entirely the next clap in favour of registering the new situation. Warriors takes the stillness as an invitation, settling closer, hand holding its place, pressed gently but close against freckled skin, blocking out light to the best of his ability.

“Okay, that helps, yeah? Okay, I’m moving closer now, alright?” And he does. Legend says and does nothing but sit there, but he feels the twitching under his hand and watches ears swivel towards him as he moves closer, leg brushing thigh as he moves as close as he considers safe, hand still held still and solid as his own ears track ragged breaths.

He's acting on impulse alone. Mentally, he’s questioning what the dickens has gotten into himself.

Legend stiffens further at the close proximity, but pressing a bit firmer, hand held closer, seems, somehow, to make that stop.

“There we go. You good, mate?”

A light shudder.

“Legend?” Sky murmurs, tugging his shirt on the rest of the way and starting closer towards them. The vet’s response is immediate, ears flicking towards him and head turning to face him, but Warriors, for some reason he can’t even begin to name- but which he thinks might be affiliated with Mask- prevents it. His hand tightens its hold again, the second settling on the other hero’s arm, just above the wrist but not confining, firm but not tight.

“Breathe.”

The order is obeyed.

“Sky is coming towards you right now,” because he’s now beginning to recognize the panic for what it is, and while apparently having his eyes covered helps, Legend still seems keen on being aware of those around him at all times. He’s still tightly wound though, so Warriors turns his attention on Sky as he continues to speak. “He’s going to sit across from us on the other bed, okay? He’s right here.”

Assure where people are, assuage uncertainties about actions, positions and behaviours, and provide some source of grounding. Or at least he’s pretty sure that’s what that therapist Zelda hired had recommended, before he’d stormed out and refused to come back anyway.

“I’m right over here,” Sky reaffirms, and it’s amazing to watch how the vet’s posture eases at the sound of the other man’s voice as Sky settles close, but not close enough to touch.

Legend’s breath rattles through the room again.

“Do you not like the storm?” It’s the size, he thinks, it must be the size. He knows that Legend’s a capable fighter and warrior, but the size and the shaking and the sheer childishness of the vet’s motion; covering his eyes against the storm, has a part of him that he’d tried locking away peeking back out and gentling his voice and hands.

A shudder is his answer.

“I’m lifting my hand now,” he says, just a moment before the motion is done. Legend’s breathing hitches, but when it’s the hand on his wrist that lifts, it starts again, although still shallow.

Huh.

“Now,” he continues, reaching blindly towards Sky, who watches him with confusion until he continues speaking “I’m going to have Sky hand me my scarf.”

It’s out of reach, on the bed he was planning on lying down on before, but Sky hands it over readily. It's still wet, but it’s honestly his trump card to help younger, shaken up heroes and while he’s never tried it with Legend, it’s worth a shot. The vet’s got to be younger than he assumed, and if the scarf works on Wild, there’s a chance that however old the other is, it could still work on him too.

“Can I bring it over here?” He asks.

Twisted fingers twitch, raising a bit, reaching out blindly. Legend makes no move to shake off his hand however, so Warriors doesn’t lift it. For some reason, he gets the impression that the lack of sight is somehow actually comforting.

“Okay,” he shifts a bit, hand holding over twitching lids but moving just enough for him to shift position, “I’m pulling it towards us, and I’m going to set it over your shoulders, okay?”

It’s telling that Legend doesn’t complain about him breaking down every motion and explaining it as he does it. Telling in a way he really doesn’t like. Just as telling though is the way the weight of the fabric, damp as it still might be, has the younger hero relaxing some, and on impulse the captain adds to the weight by settling an arm around thinner shoulders.

Legend all but sinks into him.

Oh crap. Yeah. It’s happening.

He feels like shit honestly. He totally missed a kid in his group, and he’s been treating them like an adult this whole time. It was a mistake with Mask, trying to respect his insistence that he was an adult and should be treated like one, but it’s more of one with Legend.

He can only imagine, based off of listening to the kids, what it’s like being a hero at a young age. His first adventure saw him nearly a teenager, and despite a demon at the end of the tracks, there had been fun and games and a trusted companion by his side the whole while. Not everyone has that. Legend is purported to have completed- at the least- six adventures, and he can only imagine what the laundry list of traumas associated must look like. Settling such a weight on young shoulders is a sure recipe for distrust and distancing.

Suddenly, the vet’s reservation around them makes a whole lot more sense.

And hurts more, because he should have noticed.

Thunder makes itself heard again, and while Legend doesn’t shift much, he still feels the other press just the slightest bit closer, head ducking and hand raising to pull his hand along after. There’s no need though, he’s already following along, arm wrapping just a bit tighter around slight shoulders even as he hums lowly. “Hey, shhh, I gotcha.”

“We’re here for you, Ledge,” Sky murmurs, voice rich and smooth and heavy, like caramel or honey. “Wars has you and I’m right here in front of you.”

Another shudder is followed by the slightest of nods; small, so as not to displace his hand.

“It’s a big storm,” the captain muses, shifting and finding himself strangely pleased when the teen beside him lets himself be shifted with him. “My sisters hated this sort of thing when we were small.”

He can feel Sky’s eyes, and Legend’s too in a more literal way; long lashes tickling the pads of his palm as dark eyes must flicker open. There’s no attempt made though to displace his hand, and until there is, he elects to leave it. Still, he can feel the unspoken question from them both, and he answers it without much undo delay.

“I have six sisters. Five younger and then my twin. You’ve seen her actually, but we didn’t get the chance to talk.”

“Six?” Sky repeats, blinking slowly.

The captain shrugs. “What can I say? My parents had quite the torrid love affair.”

The desired result of that statement (although true) is achieved, and while Sky only levels him with a look, Legend, like Mask and Tune before him, shudders, squeaking out some semblance of nervous and flustered laughter at the words.

Oh yeah, if stuff like that had the vet flushing red hot under his hand, it’s only further proof that the younger is, in fact, a baby.

“Yeah,” he continues, settling into the bed as best he can and rather wishing his back was to the wall or a headboard or something, “all of us have ‘L’ names too. Link and Linkle, Leah, Laura, Lyrica and Lillian- they're also twins- and lastly little Lila.”

“Your dad and mum have ‘L’ names too?” There’s not the usual bite to the jest, voice shaken and almost timid, but it’s a relief all the same, and proof he’s doing some good here.

He chuckles, looking down to the face settled almost against his chest, his hand covering dark eyes and blocking any sight of expression or thought that may have slipped through the cracks. “Yes, actually. Luke and Lynn Taylor.”

Any answer or reaction is lost as thunder rumbles through once more, and the vet under his hands cowers back at the sound.

Impulse once more takes the reigns. “Sound like the Selkie King really isn’t having it tonight.”

“The what?” It’s Sky that asks, but long ears twitch beside him and the face that was almost buried in his chest now raises again, his hand still over dark eyes even as lashes flutter open a second time, soft and whispering across his nerves like fairy wings, but in no ways hiding the clear curiosity of the younger.

It works every time.

“The Selkie King,” he says again, and then, “I’ll tell you the tale, but only if you let me actually settle here, I’m too old for hunching over like this, it’ll give me a widow’s hump.”

Sky scoffs. “You’re like twenty-two.”

He’s off by a few years but the captain doesn’t correct him.

Legend’s surprisingly pliable and let’s himself be tugged into the corner of the bed, walls on either side and blankets pulled up, both for warmth and for weight, although the captain says nothing of either, and with the younger pulled against his side, much as he’s done for sisters and sons countess times before, he explains.

“The Selkie King,” and goddesses, he’s got to fight at his accent at those words, half tempted to let it on through to add further to the sound of the story, which always sounds so much better in the tongue of the fae or those whose voices carry the remnants of their kind, “was a great powerful creature who lived in the seas to the East. The Selkie are a people who are neither man nor beast, or so they say, but both. A man who, with the donning of a coat of fur, will change into a seal to roam the seas at their deepest, most happy by the water and with eyes darker than night skies.” In retrospect, if he believed in selkies anymore, he thinks they’d have eyes like the vet’s; endless, dark, and always touched with some sort of emptiness or sorrow.

“Woah.”

He smiles as Sky’s awe, but more so at the settling of a smaller body against his own as long ears prick up but soft cheeks settle against his chest. His fingers slip just the slightest to accommodate, but he leaves his hand pressed where it blocks the next flash of lightning, and though the vet shivers at the next roll of thunder, he doesn’t start away.

Something inside wonders whether this clinginess is born of fear or loneliness, and he wonders, for only as long as he dares be silent, when’s the last time someone offered the veteran any form of friendly contact.

“Storms-” he continues, once he’s certain he can’t be silent any longer “-they say are caused because the sea and the wind stole from the Selkie King.” he drops his voice, low and almost whispered, like when he’d told the same story to wide-eyed little sisters before tucking them in with kisses and laughter and warm smiles that are long since forgotten. “The Selkie King is the most powerful of the Selkies. He’s said to be strong enough to fight the wind itself, and the seas must bow under his command. With a power like that however, it’s hard. Being strong is a lonely life,” and one his brothers will know well, and the heavy sigh that sounds from beside him is proof of that. “As such, he lived solitary for many years, watching man and his kind and walking among them, but finding none to be his queen and companion, until-” and here his sisters would squirm under the covers, big blue eyes sparkling up at him as they begged ‘till what, Link?’ but his brothers don’t do so. Sky cocks his head, a manner he’s certain is learned from Twilight, and Legend’s face turns up to him again, eyes still hidden, but neither speaks.

It makes sense, he supposes. They are Links after all

“Until” he continues “one day he came to an island he’d never seen, and met there a maiden with a voice to make any selkie rejoice, and eyes like the seas themselves, the sort the king could only find himself lost in. She had a soul like a bird, and a wish for the beyond, and unlike others who stared and saw the uncanny way of the selkie, she saw to the soul of the Selkie King, and it was in her heart that he found solace from the loneliness of the world.”

Sky’s eyes are misty, that distant smile in them that means he’s thinking of his own Zelda, and Warriors almost, like so many times before, lets himself change to story.

He doesn’t. The point is to give an answer to the roar of the sky and the fury of the lightning. It’s all fairy stories made to make the remnants of Demise’s fury less a terror to small minds, but there’s no age limit for fairy stories, as he well knows. Still, few end in a truly happy manner.

“Life is cruel though,” and how cruel. He’s not told this story in some time but it’s now beginning to make his own heart twist up in memory of how deeply he’d felt similar things to what the Selkie King would as he continued. “As time passed and their love grew, the seas and the storms began to brew. They wished to rebel against the Selkie King who had tamed them, to make war with him, and though he had no wish to leave his maiden, he was called from the island beaches and her side to fight the sea once more, and the storms with it.

“The oceans rose in those days, the sky dark, much like tonight. All that could be heard or seen was the fury of the sea and the wind as the Selkie King sought to bridle them. He fought them, I know not how long, but when at last they were calmed, the Selkie King turned to return to his island and his maiden, only to find both sunk beneath the waves that had risen in his fight.”

There’s a shudder beneath his hands, and dampness touches his palm as long lashes once more stir against skin. It’s sad, he’ll grant. He’s not sure if Legend’s young enough to be crying at fairy stories, but he won’t judge. Heroes grow up too fast, and by his knowledge, they haven’t the time to let their minds and hearts age as they ought. He’s not about to judge a few tears at a sad story.

“The Selkie King searched and searched,” he continues, “but the sea had already taken away, in final vengeance, what he loved. They say,” and thunder rolls right as he speaks, “that the thunder is his shouts to the sky and sea for their cruelty, and the lightning is his magic, light surging across land and sea to light his search to find what was lost to him.”

“What about the girl?” Sky asks, looking startled himself at the turn of the tale, “what happened to her?”

His only answer is a wry smile. His sisters would ask the same thing the first time he’d shared the story his grandfather had told him growing up, but the answer is always the same: “she was lost to the sea, as though never there.”

He’s not expecting the sob, or the hand that clutches in his shirt as shoulders tremble and tears dampen the hand still held over eyes not unlike those of a selkie. At first, he thinks it’s just the panic catching up and hysterics taking over, but after the first few sobs are over and they just get stronger, the captain realises there might be more to it than that.

“Legend?”

There's no answer, only inconsolable tears that seem to flow without end, even as he lifts his hand for the first time in a while to try and wipe them away. The younger hero’s face finds its way to the front of his shirt near immediately after, and he’s left trying to hold his brother, clueless as to what he’s said or done to incite the new rainfall that drenches the one clean shirt he’d had.

“Vet?” Sky is starting up from the bed, but he doesn’t touch, likely aware that doing so unprompted and without warning isn’t a good idea right now. Warriors though, closer, is free to wrap his arms around trembling shoulders and meet sapphire eyes, questions unspoken flying between them as confusion clouds the air where agonised sobs and tears do not.

In the end, he elects to leave it be, soothing gently and running one hand up and down a spine he can count every bone of, hushing softly all the while until the tears finally run out and Legend is limp against him.

“I'm sorry,” he says at last, not sure what exactly he’d done wrong. “That one usually helps my sisters feel better about-”

“He wasn’t a selkie.”

The captain pauses. “What?”

“He wasn’t a selkie,” comes the soft words again. “He was mer.”

“It’s just a story, vet, he wasn’t-”

“They were real.” And it’s so desperately spoken that it stops all other assurance in his throat as a hand tightens in the front of his shirt. “Her name was Marin. She wanted to fly, she wanted to see the world. I promised I’d take her, I wanted to show her everything.” There’s something so broken about the vet’s voice, and when he looks down the eyes of the younger are still closed, but there’s clear agony on the face of his brother. “I didn’t want to destroy her; I never wanted it to fade.”

He has no context, no clue, but some part of himself, the part that remembers holding another young hero like this and listening to agonies and losses, knows that something said in the story, some part, has brought a memory or loss back afresh, and his attempts to sooth have only reopened wounds.

Warriors wraps his brother tightly in his arms, draping blue fabric over tighter shut eyes. “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t know it wasn’t real until it was over,” the younger hiccups, “I- I wanted to live there forever. It was so... it was so peaceful!”

Somehow, that single word, and the agony behind it, stabs through a heart blocked behind stone walls and chain mail.

Why should a wish for peace sound so desperate from the lips of a child? What right have gods to burden someone so small with sufferings that would lead their greatest desire to be for something so devastatingly evasive?

It’s cruel. It’s familiar in its cruelty, and all that the captain hero can do is hold tighter still and murmur soft comforts that are as empty as the praises lauded on shoulders such as their own. “I know, Link, I know. It’s not fair.”

“I fought him three times,” and it’s naught but a whisper, “is it so wrong to want to be allowed to stop?”

He’s going to find Hylia and murder her.

Once is enough. Once is too much for a kid. Thrice? And twice as many adventures? Oh, no, no-no-no, he’s going to be having words with the Golden Gals when he gets to see them, even if that means fighting his way to the Goddess’ Realm himself. He’s sure he could convince the deity to help him under the right circumstances.

Aloud though, his answer is softer. “No. It’s not wrong. They’re wrong to ask so much of you,” words he’s whispered countless times to the hero who is now their leader. Looking at Time, he knows that peace has been achieved. The ranch, the wife, the beautiful home and satisfied smile, the longing look in his eyes after the days have been long since last they’ve visited; it all points to a life now granted chances to be lived and lived well. He only wishes the same could be meted out to all who’ve suffered as they have. “You deserve better,” he assures. “And for what it’s worth, I understand. Not everything of course,” and he’d never meant to tell, “but I get it. Losing someone, it’s hard.”

“I loved her.”

“I know.”

What sort of love, it doesn’t matter now. Be it puppy love or that of a far more intense sort, love is still love and when lost it can shatter. No wonder dark eyes hold longing deeper than the sea and desolation like the coldest of desert nights.

Sky stares but doesn’t speak or move.

Legend though, shifts, and dark eyes lift to him for a moment before being shut again as another flash disturbs the room. Without thinking, he raises a hand to cover the younger’s face, tears still fresh against calloused skin. Despite all this, the question in desolate eyes is still spoken aloud. “Who was yours?”

And his heart nearly stops, lodged in his throat, but he breathes and guides a pink haired head to settle against his collar, cheek resting in downy soft hair to hide further his face from both. “My wife and son.”

One trembling hand settles over his own, awkward in placement but intent clear. “I’m sorry.”

His smile is real, although pained, as he wraps his brother tighter, pressing, without thought, a kiss to a crown. “It wasn't your fault.” It was his own, his pride and his folly and his failure that had left him with his son ripped away and his wife turning her back. There’s none to blame but himself and fate’s cruel hand.

Despite this, there seems to be a word on the tongue of the younger, indeed, on Sky’s own too, but he cuts both off. “How about a lighter story?” he’s deflecting, he knows, but tonight is not about his losses and mistakes, and suddenly he’s gone from wanting nothing more than dry clothes and a warm bed to being content to hold one smaller and offer what meagre comforts and distractions he can while covering sorrow-ridden eyes and avoiding sapphire stares that bore with sadness for both himself and their little brother.

Legend hiccups. “Seriously?”

“I’m an excellent storyteller,” he returns, smile real but pained despite himself as he looks down at a face blocked by his own hand, “I’m a father and an older brother after all, I have no business being anything less than skillful with bedtime stories.”

“I’m too old for bedtime stories.”

He’d beg to differ. Someone still small enough to be held as he holds his brother is still of an age for bedtime stories, and he resolves to find the best he can to share. Not one about heroes though, or about lost love or Selkie Kings. Instead, he tells the story of the Goddess’ Rabbit and the stars it set in the sky. Instead, he holds a brother who he only now knows to see as anything more than another of Hylia’s soldiers, and he treasures the whisper of a chance to redeem some of what was stolen by fate.

Maybe it feels like redemption for himself too. Just a little bit.

#lu warriors #lu legend #lu sky #linkeduniverse #linked universe #linked universe fanfic #ketto writes #silvercaptain my beloved #based on bunny facts #dad wars is my weakness #as is hurting legend #i neer intended to write a koholint fic but here we are #hopefully it isn't cringe #inspiration hit me like a truck while cooking dinner last night and i was up until 2 writing this #despite having work today #hopefully y'all enjoy

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