#aeralfos

[link-is-a-dork]

#legend of zelda series #twilight princess #tp gc #emulator #Aeralfos #tp aeralfos #enemy #tp enemy #screenshot #nintendo #nintendo gamecube #liad post #2023

[educationaldm]

More Legend of Zelda - D&D crossover goodness. Here’s 5th Edition Stats for the Aeralfos from  gowronatemybaby7

https://dnd-5e-homebrew.tumblr.com/post/149765863212/zelda-monster-manual-part-1-by-gowronatemybaby7

#Legend of Zelda #D&D #DnD #Dungeons and Dragons #5EDnD #5th Edition #Stats #Aeralfos #Monster #Homebrew #gowronatemybaby7

[anthonynothere]

TW: Mild Blood Commission for Hyrix's Aeralfos Character xp @HyrixYeen on Twitter (or X)

#digital art #sfw #commission #flat color #fanart #aeralfos #the legend of zelda #fan character #wound #blood

[needfantasticstories]

Whumpy WIP - Sky

AO3 link at bottom. Constructive criticism is welcome.

Summary:

Link (Sky) meets unexpected guests. (The intensity ramps up sharply here.)

TW: abduction, because it's what bro tries to do most of his game besides dueling.

Chapter 9: The Dorm

Dim lamps washed out the stained class colors of the Knight’s Academy hallway. Link walked past the stairs and into his room, mind heavy with anger and exhaustion.

He understood Zelda’s desire to fight alongside the knights. She grew up among them, they’d become family. She’d trained under captain Eagus too, and she could take on monsters with technical prowess even Fi would be forced to spout high statistics about, if she were around. No one doubted she could hold her own one-on-one.

But a battle against an unknown invading force? None of them had trained for that.

He wished he had the nerve to go after Zelda; to fly Crimson up despite the late hour and find Indigo. He could find a way to explain that she was a great fighter, that he’d be honored to defend Skyloft by her side, but did she not see what she meant to the rest of the people? How many of them would die for her? How often they’d come to her with concerns and disputes and she resolved them before even needing to involve Gaepora? How they freely shared with her their deepest fears and hopes as if that was easy and normal? How she loved them so easily? How she pushed them all to do, and become, better? Even the elders listened to her as much as she listened to them.

She was more than a knight; she represented their hope. Few in Skyloft knew her divine identity, but they hardly needed to. She radiated wisdom and strength and determination. She gave them courage, made them feel strong.

What would happen if Zelda fell in battle?

And who would meet the end of their blades in the days to come, anyway? What did this mysterious enemy want?

Demise and Ghirahim died, their remaining auras locked within three chests hidden across time and not even he was allowed by Zelda to know where. The demon hordes were dying out or rendered harmless, and not a single one of the tiny political factions in Skyloft had enough venom or strength to fight the entire archipelago.

“Those like you, and those like me…”

The memory rankled him. Lies from a demon, not to be trusted. He had to face this new reality, not dwell forever in the past. Who knew what other threats were out there, as hidden as the surface had once been. He tried to clear his head, to find the courage to look ahead.

Who, then, would be coming? The monsters up here were nearly extinct. And why had Fi asked him to turn her back to the Goddess blade, and raise Hylia back to the sky? How would that fix a break in time? And who would want to engulf such a small island chain in flames?

He opened his door and stepped into the soothing darkness. He could not wait to sleep. Having lived in this same room at the Knight’s Academy for nearly a decade, Link knew every inch of it, and didn’t waste time lighting lamps or feeling around for his chair. He knew every creaking board and bump in the rug by muscle memory.

He crossed to the far wall between his desk and his bed, and pulled off his tunic and chainmail and set them squarely on the chair’s back, the seat angled forty degrees from the table facing him. He draped the clothes and smoothed them out, ready to be cleaned tomorrow.

The senior-class knight initiates, like him and Pipit, had evacuation drills at dawn. He felt tired just thinking about it, plus he’d promised to help Groose with gathering materials using those rude little flying machines Gondo and Zelda loved so much, even if they were great at moving materials to the camps. Hopefully he’d get through the day without smashing one for insulting his pants…again. Perhaps he’d squeeze a meal or two in, though he always kept a glass of pumpkin stew in his pouch these days.

He slipped his boots off and set them aside. He’d have to polish them soon or Gaepora would chide him for not living up to the knights’ dress code. The surface had not been kind to them. But would he really notice with all the drills and preparations for the invasion underway? Could he put it off one more day? He was so tired.

A gleam of moonlight on something red and white glimmering near the door caught his eye. His mind flashed a panicked thought: Ghirahim?! Shivers ran up and down his spine.

Goddesses, I’m more tired than I thought. The demon was gone, sealed away. Skyloft had divine wards against demons too, thanks to Batreaux’s help fixing gaps in the wards–the same he’d used to get in to become human.

Link looked for what red and white glimmer he’d misinterpreted, and wondered if it was ever there in the first place, or simply nerves and exhaustion. A bell had rung not long ago, marking two hours past midnight. It’s just nerves. No sense fretting until the fight comes.

Still, the air felt different. It felt wrong: a darkness too thick, a quiet too watchful. He held his breath, listening.

He could hear Fletch breathing from under the screen separating their rooms. He took a slow step toward his lamp by the door. Then another, tense and watching every direction.

Nothing.

He sighed. He was being a coward.

He squared his shoulders and marched to the door.

A small chime cut the silence as he reached for the handle. A hand touched his shoulder.

He whipped back around to look, wishing for his blade.

Heavy, scaly claws grabbed his wrists and sliced into his biceps as they gripped his upper arms. They yanked his arms taut to either side, pinning him in place just inside the door.

As his mind raced to catch up, another pair of claws clamped around his throat and mouth. He wished he’d opened the door faster. He planted his bare feet and shoved, but they held firm as boulders, something huge flapping around them. Wings?

Crimson, something’s wrong! Find Zelda! He felt his sleeping bird’s mind stir. He repeated the thought.

The hand on his throat closed tighter. He couldn’t breathe! He struggled to twist away. Escape was so close! If he could just yell! He tried to bite the scaly claw holding his mouth, but it had his jaw clamped tight. He bucked and writhed, but they seemed to anticipate his moves, and held him firmly in place. They maneuvered to hold steady any time he gained the slightest ground, huge leather wings snapping as he fought the free himself.

Since when do lizalfos have wings? He thought, stars flashing in his vision. His lungs burned, aching to pull in air.

It doesn’t matter! He thought, trying to bring his fists together so he could add momentum to his elbows, Just get free, then worry about it! They wrenched his arms back apart, and his shoulders ached at the force. White filled the periphery of his vision. One hissed at him, and his body began to slump in their hold. He slumped.

He had to find a weakness, fast.

He tried to relax and keep what little air remained. The hand on his throat eased up, and he caught his breath, panting through his nose, as he studied the monsters. He strained to look at the blue lizard on his left.

A silver, horned helmet and beaded bracelets glinted in the light from the window. It wore a red silk waist wrap and matching scarf over its lengthy abdomen, like common Skyloft clothes in design, oddly sophisticated for a demon-lizard. It was as strong as a dark lizalfos, and its breath reeked of sulfur too. Enormous leather wings reached the ceiling, and flapped to help the beast counter Link’s renewed resistance as he tested it. Yellow eyes leered at him from the blue brows. He glared back, then slowly looked to the attacker on his right, the claw over his mouth giving just enough for him to do so, praying to Hylia for better luck.

This red lizard towered over Link. He strained to look up high enough to see its glowing yellow eyes. It snarled at him as he pulled his arm to test it; the long, scarred snout stretched in a horrifying grin with dagger-sized teeth. It was enjoying this.

Link felt dread in his stomach, threatening to weaken him as orange flames danced in the back of its throat. His wide stance faltered as adrenaline shook him, and it gripped his arm tighter. His wrist felt close to snapping.

Link drew on that rush of adrenaline and pulled explosively to avoid the burst of flame he feared would come any moment now, but it only strained his shoulder as the beast continued to leer. If it chose to, trapped and compromised like this, one breath could kill him.

Yet it did not.

Dark lizalfos, the ones he’d found in Skyloft Temple, could breathe paralyzing poison as well as flames. Link wondered if these beasts could do the same. No wonder he felt so weak.

They should have killed him by now. Did that mean they wanted him alive?

The lizard behind him squeezed his head tight in front and behind and faced him to the window.

Two more winged lizalfos had appeared inside. Moonlight illuminated the bombchu-like spiked helmet and multicolor feather necklace on a shorter gray one, and cast a terrifying shadow from the heavy fur cloak of a much taller one with full-body black tattoos. Four more peered in from outside, at least that he could see.

He had lost this fight before it began. The shadows in the room grew deeper.

A cold silk glove brushed lightly across his cheek.

No! It has to be another nightmare.

Link strained against them with strength he didn't know he had left.

It didn’t make a difference. With terrible timing, his stamina failed him again, and he slumped within the hands that now held him upright. He gasped, struggling to catch his breath through his nose while his throat seemed determined to close. He watched the familiar hand in dread as it finished brushing from below his eye and up to his temple.

This is some new version of the Silent Realm, a test of courage. This isn’t real. It’s a dream. Hylia is testing me.

“Hello, Skychild,” The demon laughed. He felt sick as the thumb ran softly across his cheek again.

Link closed his eyes. Wake up! Dear Hylia, let me wake up!

“I will make you deaf from the sound of your own screams” came the unwanted memory.

“Such poor manners. It’s unspeakably rude to keep visitors waiting for so long? But why the look of surprise, Skychild? Didn’t I make you a promise? I intend to keep it.”

The demon’s tongue slithered and whipped like a snake.

He shivered and kept his eyes closed. The piercing claws would not let him turn away, though he tried.

Crimson, get help! But stay away!

“I brought some friends from another time to meet you, Skychild. They are quite adept at fighting, having faced a hero such as yourself in another era. I’m rather thrilled at how lizalfos have evolved into a more glorious form: the aeralfos. More adept, more agile, more intelligent, and they work in teams! They’ve even adopted fashion! I’m rather taken with them. I expect Skyloft will see more and more of my friends in the coming days,”

The monsters around him laughed.

This was the enemy? This was what the knights of Skyloft would face?

Crimson’s thoughts came to him. Cant get out! Can’t get out!

“I suppose you have the right to be surprised to see me, Skychild. After all, those wards have kept us demons at bay for centuries. Only one with divine power can surpass them. Luckily, I have found just such an ally. What divine power that witch has! Portals through time, the kind I had to chase down for over a century, she can make with a flick of her scrawny little wrist! Oh, delicious power! The possibilities have been thrown wide open if I can but convince her to assist with Demise’s return! Well, one of his more competent incarnations, at least. I felt positively giddy as a bird in Spring when she accepted my services,” he smiled and carded his fingers through Link’s hair, “But that’s not what she truly wants,” he smiled.

“No, all that snobby, spoiled little bookworm wants, all she pines for like a wounded dog, are pathetic little heroes like you,” Ghirahim clicked his tongue, “Such a tragic waste of divine power,” The demon lord sighed.

Link held himself still, trying to understand but nothing was making sense. Who was he talking about? What witch? What heroes?

“So, the fates have united us again. Letting you scurry around proved disastrous last time; nothing but setback after setback! You thwarted my hard work at every turn with your pestering! And you had the audacity to defy my master. You took my victory and stole it at the last moment! You do not deserve to be alive, worm,” he glowered, “You and Hylia’s brat have intervened enough already! So clever, breaking up Demise’s soul and hiding away the sword,” he glowered, “But now… I did promise to punish you, didn’t I?”

Link’s heart felt like a stone in his chest, plummeting. This, he understood. This, he’d been anticipating it somewhere deep in his soul for months now. Would they kill him afterwards? Would they not bother to wait and do it here, in his room, where Zelda might be the first to find his body on this floor, cold and stiff? He thrashed at the thought.

Crimson sent waves of panic to him. Pain! Light! Escape!

Crimson! What’s wrong!? Get away!

Ghirahim gripped Link’s throat in steely fingers, and slowly squeezed. Link stayed still, measuring his breaths until the airway closed. He’d hold on as long as he could. He’d not give Ghirahim the satisfaction of seeing him panic.

Ghirahim smiled, and released his grip slowly.

“Sadly for Cia, I must destroy her preferred hero. But I need to keep her on my side. And if Cia wants a hero, then if she is loyal, she shall have one,” He stepped back, and looked to the aeralfos on his right, “Craw, is your name, is it? Good. Bind him.”

At this news, Link dropped his weight, hoping to break their grip with the sudden movement. They did not falter, and scaled hands forced his wrists together and bound them in coarse rope, then pinned his upper arms at his side and bound them to his chest as well. The green claw over his mouth pulled his jaw down hard, shoving rags into his mouth, then pulled a fabric tightly over the rags, and tied them in place at the back of his head.

The blue one lifted him like a child as the red, scarred monster grabbed his kicking feet and bound his bare ankles together. They carried him toward the window, claws digging into his thigh. Drawing blood.

As they passed his dresser, Link’s feet were just close enough to strike.

He kicked hard, shoving it against the wall. Craw stumbled a half step, but Link prayed it proved to be enough. Fledge lived on the other side. The boy had grown remarkably strong, but he was still terrified of bumps in the night. He might run to Groose, and maybe Groose would find help instead of diving in headfirst, and maybe, just maybe, they’d tell the knights. Too many “hopefully”s, but he had no other choice. If the invasion had begun early, they all needed to evacuate.

Ghirahim’s dagger sliced his arm as they set him down, and he yelped under the gag, his thoughts scattered. Another dagger was poised in the air, floating between his eyes.

“Behave, boy. Or I could send these aeralfos to butcher every last one of your dear Hylians in their sleep,” Ghirahim hissed and then snapped.

Link and the aeralfos reappeared in the cold grass outside his room in the midst of the other waiting aeralfos. They wore cloaks to disguise their monstrous forms. The aeralfos’ hot breath sent puffs of steam in the cold air.

“Quietly now. I want this to be a surprise. Take him to the Faron entrance, and be quick.”

The demon disappeared.

Crimson, is anyone coming? He felt nothing in reply. Crimson! Are you alright?

Craw hoisted him, claws digging into his shoulder and thigh again. Link shivered in the cold and looked back to his home.

Two aeralfos threw a lit torch into his room. He bucked and twisted in their grip again, and tried to yell, but to no avail. Hadn’t Ghirahim just said not to draw attention? But if someone could see it, perhaps they’d just helped him.

They ran through the gate and downhill toward the island’s edge.

They reached the edge of Skyloft. The gray aeralfos holding him spread his wings and, without ceremony or warning, the invaders jumped off the edge.

Link’s whole body stiffened and he grabbed at the monster for something to hold. He could only find a handful of beads that broke off. They were freefalling. No sense of lightness, freedom, or familiarity accompanied his fall now. No crimson loftwing would come. His body prickled with terrifying weightlessness. The screech of a loftwing pierced the night sky above him, and he searched for a sign of a bird or rider.

I struggle with most of this fic, but the whump parts are turning out well with all the inspiration around tumblr, so here's some more of my obsession with a particular villain. He's in 3 of my 4 WIPs as THE villain (among many). I also REALLY like aeralfos now.

I'll be editing this bad boy in the future, so constructive criticism is welcome. I can take it if you give me something nice to wash it down.

(This one eventually ties in with Blood and Blade)

#linked universe #whumptober #sky linked universe #whumptober 2023 #aeralfos are cool #skipwrites

[skyward-floored]

C-can I make a request…? (Please feel free to ignore if you’d rather not!)

HDW parent-child comfort? Maybe Volga gets a chance to comfort Link, or Impa can comfort him? Idk girl I’m just starving for comfort and warm fuzzy vibes and cuddles lol

Yes you may! (though I will say requests are closed so nobody send me more thanks <3)

It took me a while to contrive a situation where Impa would feel comfortable snuggling but I think I made it work! You’ll have to forgive me for the angst there ended up being, but there is comfort and cuddles I promise 😂

——————————————————————————————————

It’s not a dangerous wound.

Head wounds always bleed a lot, and almost always look worse than they are, so there’s no need for her to panic.

Yet despite how many times Impa tells herself these words, she can’t seem to banish the dread in her gut at the memory of seeing Link get slammed to the ground by an aeralfos’s shield, and not get up even after it had been killed by another soldier.

She shouts his name as he goes down, but the battle is a mess, and Impa is stuck in a fight of her own and can’t immediately get to Link. She manages a glimpse of him through the hordes, blood all over his face, and her heart stops as she fights even more viciously.

By the time she finally forces her way past the monsters in her path, Link is already being carried out of battle by a handful of medics. Impa wants to stop right there and follow them and demand to know if he’s okay, but they’re at a crucial point in the battle, and leaving now would be disastrous.

They wouldn’t be carrying him off if he wasn’t alive, he’s alive, calm down, she berates herself, but for some reason her hands won’t stop shaking.

The moment Cia’s monsters retreat and the men raise up a cheer, Impa makes a beeline for the medical tent, ignoring the questions lobbed at her by various army personnel. Link has certainly been injured before, but there’d been so much blood on him...

The medics are expecting someone to come looking for Link apparently, and the moment she steps inside the medical tent, she’s whisked off to a more private corner, curtains blocking the area from both the sounds and sights of anyone walking by.

And immediately sees Link lying silently on a bed, nearly as pale as the bandage around his head.

Impa exhales as she goes to his side, and watches his chest go up and down for a moment. The blood has been cleaned from his face at least, but he’s unnaturally still, and pale.

But he’s breathing.

“How is he?” Impa asks, and the medic beside Link hums.

“He has a concussion along with the laceration the shield left, but we’ve stopped the bleeding. He woke up enough to handle a potion about fifteen minutes ago,” she reports. “He’ll likely be disoriented for a while while the potion works through him. He may need another at a later point, but overall, he should be fine with some rest,” the medic smiles. Impa nods, still trying to ease the fear constricting her.

See, he’s fine, they said he’ll be fine, he just needs rest. He’s fine.

Link’s chest goes slowly up and down again, and Impa swallows.

“I’ve got some other patients to check up on, I’ll leave you to visit,” the medic says, seeming to sense her presence isn’t wanted, and she slips out from the curtain, leaving Impa alone with her son.

It’s rather quiet with her gone.

Impa exhales again, and looks at Link, pale and quiet, seeming unusually small under the thin blanket that he’s tucked under. There’s still blood matted in his hair, and Impa hesitates, then reaches forward, gently teasing some of it out.

It falls almost dust-like onto his pillow, and she brushes it off, intent on not thinking about how close Link came to dying and how she couldn’t do a thing to help him.

She can still see hear his cry as he’d fallen to the ground.

“Mmngh...”

“Link?” Impa asks immediately, leaning over him as his face twitches.

It takes him a minute, but he blearily opens his eyes, pupils unevenly sized as he blinks up at her. The sight of his blues, even dazed as they are, eases the fear in her chest somewhat, and she swallows as he stares.

“‘mpa?” he slurs, and she nods, unable to stop her exhale. He’s fine, see, he’s awake, relax. “Wh’...?”

“You were injured, Link. You got hit rather hard in the head with a large metal shield,” Impa explains slowly. Link scrunches up his face like he’s trying to remember such an event happening. “You’re currently in the medics tent.”

Link slowly blinks at her, not a whit of comprehension in his gaze.

“...shield?”

“Yes, a shield hit you. Hard.”

The memory of blood flashes in Impa’s vision again, and she very pointedly ignores it as Link’s eyes scrunch in confusion.

“Where’s... m’ shield?” he mumbles.

“It’s with your other gear, Link. It’s safe.”

"Oh..." he trails off, and slowly blinks. "...Wh' happen?"

Impa sighs. The medic had said he’d be disoriented. "You were injured, Link. You're resting in the medical tent."

He hums in reply, and slowly rolls his head to the side so he can look at her more easily, eyes trailing hazily across her face. The unsure, almost guarded look that’s been on his face whenever he’s looked at her lately is completely absent, nothing but open trust and bleary confusion.

It’s... almost more painful, in a way.

Impa swallows, and sits on the stool that’s been left beside his bed, Link’s eyes flickering at the noise. He stares at her again, and blinks, a little frown pulling at his cheeks.

“Don’t cry,” he murmurs.

“...Link, I’m not crying,” Impa replies slowly, and Link stretches a hand in the vague direction of her face, obviously rather uncoordinated.

“Eyes’r red,” he says worriedly, and somehow manages to land a hand on her cheek. “Looks like... if you’re cryin’.”

Impa can’t help letting out a soft chuckle as he clumsily tries to wipe away an imaginary tear, and she gently pulls Link’s hand off her cheek, setting it back at his side. “I haven’t been crying, Link. My eyes are naturally this color.”

Link squints at her, face disbelieving, then he frowns.

“I want red eyes,” he says in a sad voice, and Impa brushes his hair away from where it had fallen in his eyes.

“Blue eyes are just as nice as red,” she says patiently, gently picking some more of the blood from his hair. She's talked to her share of concussed people, but concussed Link is... especially curious to speak with. “I’ve always liked blue, actually.”

“Oh... okay. I guess blue... 'r nice."

Link leans into her touch, and Impa holds her hand there longer than she would have otherwise, his eyes slipping closed again. He doesn’t speak for a minute, and Impa almost thinks he’s fallen asleep when he softly grunts.

“I don’t feel good,” he mumbles. “C'n you fix it?”

The way his voice wavers makes something squeeze in her chest. “I’m afraid not. The red potion should help fix you up soon Link, but it’s going to take a little while. You’ll just have to be patient.”

“Head hurts... ‘n stomach.”

“You have a concussion, that’s not surprising,” Impa sighs. “But the red potion should help with that. They’ll both fade, you’ll be all right.”

“Left,” he mumbles, and Impa raises a confused eyebrow. “‘M left-handed. Not right.”

Impa breathes a soft chuckle. “That you are. My apologies.”

Link goes quiet again, and Impa watches him, his face slightly pinched in discomfort. She’s unable to stop herself from studying his face as the silence stretches between them, idly picking out the features he shares with her and his father.

He’s got Volga’s hair, though it’s paler then his, a hint of his Sheikah blood coming through. His nose is hers, as is the overall shape of his face, but his eyes are solely how Volga’s used to be, blue and bright.

Looking at him, you'd never guess he had such unusual blood.

Link must feel her gaze on him, as he opens his eyes and looks at her again. His eyes are eyes half lidded, but focused on her face, and a frown appears on his lips as pain suddenly ripples across his expression. His forehead crinkles, discomfort suddenly more obvious as he shifts in his bed, and Impa leans forward, looking at him with worry.

“Link?”

He squeezes his eyes shut, then opens them again, looking at her with a truly miserable expression.

“...Hurts,” he whispers.

And maybe it’s the time of voice he uses, maybe it’s the mixture of tears and dizziness in his eyes, or the fact that he just looks so young and small and hurt lying there, but Impa abruptly gives in to the side of herself begging to do something other then just sit here.

He likely won't remember any of this tomorrow anyway.

She stands up from her stool as Link lets out a soft groan, and sits herself on the bed, gently sliding him over so she can sit beside him. Her plan was to merely provide comfort by sitting there, but Link almost immediately latches onto her, curling himself halfway on her lap.

Impa can’t really breathe for a few seconds as her son nestles up to her, face still pained, but more relaxed then before. She watches him as he tries to get settled, but he seems to be having trouble finding a comfortable position for his head.

So Impa throws her remaining caution to the wind, and does something she hasn’t done since Link was a baby.

She slowly, carefully, slides him up, shifting him around so his head is resting on her shoulder. Then she begins to gently pet his hair, her fingers trembling a little.

Link goes still, then relaxes, the pain easing on his face.

“There you go...” she says quietly, still slowly running a hand through his hair. She’s careful to avoid the bandages, making sure her fingers only card through hair, and Link about melts under her touch.

A soft sigh escapes him, and Impa swallows, the fact that this is the first time she’s held Link since he was tiny not lost on her.

She quickly blinks back the sting in her eyes.

A sound almost like purring suddenly vibrates from Link’s throat, soft and faint, just loud enough that Impa can hear it. She blinks at him in surprise, but Link doesn’t notice, well on his way to falling asleep.

Impa keeps petting his hair as he dozes against her, the little rumbly noises still coming from his throat. He nuzzles up to her a little more, and Impa pulls his blanket up around his shoulders, holding him just a bit tighter as he finally drifts off.

It's unlikely he'll have any memory of this occurring, Impa quietly soothing him as he falls asleep in her arms.

But that's okay.

Holding him again after so long, gently teasing the last bits of blood from his hair, his head resting under her chin as he softly rumbles... it's enough.

She closes her eyes, and Link sighs again, fully asleep.

It's enough.

#I don't know how warm and fuzzy I suceeded in making this but I did my best #hdw au #impa #link #tw blood #tw concussion #? i guess #answers from the floor #skyloftian nutcase my beloved #writing from the floor #I hate to say it but if dragons roar then technically they shouldn’t also be able to purr #but. luckily it’s fiction and I can do whatever I want 👍 #so. purr. hehe. #Impa: *trying to respect Link's space because things are still weird between them* #*but also knowing he's concussed and has no clue what's going on* this is fine

[unexpectedstormy]

#polls #loz #legend of zelda #monsters #no I didn't include every kind of monster because I don't know them all nor is there space #sorry if your preferred/fave isn't on here

[hotcheetohatredwastaken]

Febuwhump Day 3 -- "Bite Down on This"

tw: description of injury, burns

The battle was over. Four doubled over himself and braced his hands on his knees, panting open-mouthed, as the last of those cursed fire-breathing aeralfos were picked out of the sky by Wild and Twilight. The ambush had come upon them unexpectedly, and they’d been forced into a loose defensive circle as the flying monsters tried to pick them off one by one. Despite their surprise, it seems they’d escaped without any major injuries. Legend was nursing a shallow scratch on his shoulder that he’d earned when one of the flying beasts had tried to fly down and snatch Wind up from the ground, Sky’s hair had been singed at the tips, but other than that, everyone was whole and well besides a few burnt sleeves. Four straightened—his chest was still tight despite the battle being over, how odd—and he withdrew a cloth from his pocket to wipe away the black blood from his beloved Four Sword. 

“Four!” someone shouted, their voice high and tight with worry. Four looked up with a start—was he in danger? Were all the monsters not actually gone? But it was only Warrior, who was running towards him, his face twisted into a look of panic. Four sent a glance behind himself—nothing was there.

“Captain,” he returned with a bit of confusion, “what’s the matter?”

“Nothing’s the matter,” Warrior said smoothly as he reached Four’s side, breathless from his burst of speed. “Can you sit down for me, Four?” 

There was a specific tone to Warrior’s voice—one that he used on the younger heroes to calm them when dealing with injuries or bad nightmares—that put Four’s nerves on edge. “What’s wrong, Captain?” he asked again.

“Nothing, nothing. Just keep breathing, you’re fine.” Warrior took Four’s arms and forcefully pushed him down to sitting. Four was getting a bit irked—he shrugged him off, pulling away. “Legend, call Hyrule and Time, quick! And Sky, we’re going to need some help over here!”

“If nothing’s wrong, what are you doing? Hey!” Four tried to bat him away, but Warrior would not be deterred. Instead, he took Four’s sword out of his hand and placed it to the side, then dragged up the bottom of his shirt. “Hey! I was cleaning that!”

Warrior ducked down to glance under Four’s shirt, then looked into Four's eyes intently. He moved his hand to Four’s stomach as if to press down, but Four felt nothing. “How are you feeling right now? Any pain? Any discomfort or pressure at all?”

“No!” Four batted his hands away again. “What are you doing?”

Warrior sucked a breath in through his teeth. “Oh, that’s not good,” he muttered to himself. “Rulie! Get over here now! Don’t look down, Four, you’re all right.”

So of course, Four looked down. The whole front of his tunic was burnt away, crisped at the edges. The skin underneath Warrior’s hands was molted black and red. Oh. But even at the sight of the burn, he felt no pain. A flood of lightheadedness surged through his head, making him dizzy.

“Hylia, what did I say! I don’t know why I even try,” Warrior bemoaned in a forced joking voice that Four didn’t find funny at all. “Do you think that you can get your tunic off?”

“Oh Hylia,” Time swore underneath his breath as he appeared in Four’s field of view. “Oooooh, sweet Hylia.”

“Uh…  probably,” Four managed to mutter, his mind stuttering at the sight of his own blackened flesh and Time’s reaction. Why… Why couldn’t he feel it? It was his own skin, wasn’t it? 

Somehow, Four ended up on his back. Sky and Hyrule were both looming over him now, their faces pinched tight in panic. His tunic had gone… somewhere. Hyrule’s hands were on his stomach, glowing with pink magic. His whole body was hypersensitive—the grass tickled his bare skin, a little rock dug into his shoulder, the breeze tugged at his hair where he lay—and he still couldn’t feel Hyrule’s touch.

“I… I can’t heal this,” Hyrule murmured faintly. Beads of sweat shone on his forehead. “There’s… there’s just too much dead skin. We’re going to have to clear it all out first.” 

“I feared that was what you’d say,” Warrior said. “Alright, Time, Twilight, get over here! We’re going to need you as well. Wild, do you have any medical training for dealing with burns?” A response rang in Four’s ears. “Good, then you get over here too then. Bring some sterile washcloths, if we’ve got any.”

“Tell us what to do, Warrior,” Sky said. Twilight was there too, hovering over his shoulder. His face was white.

“Hold him down,” Warrior answered, his expression grim. “We’re going to have to excise the wound before we can treat it, and he’s gonna fight once the pain starts to hit. I should know. But we can…” 

“...have anything for pain management?” Time’s voice asked.

“...ot for this, it won’t touch it. Wouldn’t kick in in time any… have to be fast or he’ll…”

Four tipped his head back and stared up at the sky, feeling disconnected from his own body. He was starting to feel… bad. His side still didn't hurt, but something was wrong. “Warrior…” he managed to croak out. “What’s…?”

Warrior was at his head in an instant. He brushed Four’s sweaty bangs out of his eyes—where had his headband gone?—and smiled down at him thinly. “Hey, Smithy. Hanging in there?”

Four licked his lips. They were dry and numb. “What’re you…?”

“You’ve been burned, and we’ve got to deal with it, now,” Warrior answered, yanking his scarf from his neck. “I’m not going to lie, it’s going to hurt, but you’ll be okay. Can you bite down on this for me?”

Four’s eyes slowly focused in on the object held up before his face. It was Warrior’s blue scarf, folded and balled up into a makeshift gag. Somehow, he dredged up enough energy to nod, and the fabric was shoved between his teeth without further ceremony. The floral smell of it burned his nose and made his head swim.

“Everyone ready?” Warrior asked, looking up at the heads surrounding him. There were nods all around. Four’s eyes fluttered shut, overcome by a sudden tiredness. “Alright, hold him down. Let’s get this done as quickly as possible. Hyrule, stand by.”

Four found his head in Sky’s lap, his arms trapped. At his feet, Time and Twilight each straddled a leg, pinning him to the forest floor. He groaned, laying his head back into Sky’s lap. Someone—was that Legend?—held one of his hands in between his own, rubbing his thumb over the back of his knuckles.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Legend said, squeezing his hand. His eyes were wet. “Just hang on, you’re gonna be okay. Hyrule, have you got enough magic for this?”

"Y...yes, I think so."

Oh, Four finally realized somewhere in the back of his mind. This is going to suck.

Warrior looked away. “Wild, let’s start. Wind, get a potion ready.”

Their hands moved to his stomach. For a moment, he felt nothing. Then pins and needles, accompanied by a sort of bone-deep cold, dove deep into his skin. That cold warmed into a sort of tingly heat, which then turned into hot, all-consuming pain. 

Four screamed. He bucked against the grip holding him down, his back arching and his feet kicked uselessly against the forest floor as he tried to crawl away from the fire in his stomach. He begged them to let him go, just stop, just let him die, please. Eventually, just as Hyrule stepped in, his hands shining pink, darkness rose to save him from the pain, and he didn’t fight it.

#four linked universe #four lu #linked universe #lu #linkeduniverse #cheetowrites #febuwhump 2024 #febuwhumpday3 #linked universe fanfic #linked universe fanfiction #warrior linked universe #lu warrior #warrior lu #those are the main boys #so I guess that's all I'll tag #even though everyone is here

[jinxedruby]

Febuwhump Day Twenty-Nine: Not allowed to die

Featuring Warriors. Conclusion of days twenty-seven and twenty-eight (the ones where Hyrule and Warriors get attacked at some ruins)

Starting and ending with Warriors, perfect. And uhh no one look at the date, it's fine, don't worry about it haha. I was not expecting to actually be able to do (almost) all of this! Thanks to everyone who read at least some of this beast, I appreciate the support :)

Heads up for major violence and major injury in this one. Little extra emphasis on the "major" this time around (it's the last day of febuwhump, I had to go all out lol)

AO3

First part | <- Previous part

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“Traveler!”

A stalfos lunged at Warriors before he could even get the full yell of alarm out as the aeralfos dragged Hyrule away. He twisted to block the stalfos’s sword with his own, metal clanging. He shoved against the monster with a grunt, trying to force it back to give himself the opening needed to go help Hyrule. A second stalfos darted in the moment the first one stumbled, replacing it. Warriors parried the blow with his shield, followed up with a slash. The stalfos leapt over his sword. The first one reappeared with no warning, sword streaking toward Warriors’ side. He twisted to block it, the weapon clanging against his shield. He delivered two rapid strikes, both scoring the stalfos’s ribs before it had the chance to dodge. The second one attacked, forcing him to go back on the defensive while the first one recovered. A particularly heavy blow cost him some balance. He took a half-step back to regain it. His heart jumped into his throat as his heel tipped back over empty air. He leaned forward, attacking viciously in an attempt to push the monsters back and give him room to move away from the edge.

Rapid flapping to his left served as his only warning. A blur of green and orange slammed into him before he could even turn his head. The impact knocked him to the side. His boots slipped off the ledge and he yelped. Pain burst in his shoulder and neck as he hit the stairs at an angle. The world flipped and flipped again, the edges of the steps jabbing painfully against him. His shoulders hit the floor hard, head snapping back and banging against the ground. Stars burst into his vision, prickles of pain radiating out from the back of his skull. He groaned, the sound muffled by the faint ringing in his ears. He blinked and dragged himself upwards.

He whipped his head up at a screech from the top of the stairs. The aeralfos dove and Warriors scrambled back, hand darting out, fingers scrabbling as he searched for his sword. His fingers wrapped around the hilt just as the monster reached him. He wrenched the sword up. The aeralfos’s blade crashed against his, shoving down against him. He braced his right hand against the flat of his blade. The monster shoved harder and his arms shook, head throbbing sharply as he struggled. The metal of the aeralfos’s blade crept closer to his throat and Warriors gritted his teeth. He tensed his core, preparing to try and kick the monster off of him. Abruptly, it ducked its head, looking back at the entrance through its legs. It shrieked, planted a foot on Warriors’ chest, and sprang over his head. The action knocked the air from Warriors’ lungs and he wheezed, the frantic skittering of the monster’s claws against stone growing fainter as it ran. He pressed a hand to his chest and managed up onto one elbow, squinting through blurry vision at the stairs.

A bomb sat at the bottom, hissing as its lit fuse burned shorter and shorter. His eyes widened. He scrambled to his feet, twisting around and dashing away from the bomb. A blast of heat and an ear-splitting BOOM collided with him simultaneously. The explosion launched him forward, limbs splayed, eyes screwed shut on reflex. He hit the ground face-first, temple cracking against the stone.

****

Ash dragged into his lungs with each breath. He coughed weakly, something wet spraying from his nose. He peeled his eyelids apart, vision blurry through the soot and concussion. Pain pulsed in his head so sharply he thought he might be sick. He drew in careful breaths, slowly trying to move his limbs. He wiggled his fingers and toes carefully, felt them move against his gloves and boots. His shield weighed down his right arm, thankfully having stayed strapped to it through the explosion. Something burned dully across his back and shoulders, aching along the backs of his legs. He took a deep breath, immediately regretting it as it triggered another wracking cough that dug shards of glass into his brain. Forcibly swallowing the coughs back, he carefully bent his arms, wincing as the movement tugged at abused skin. He placed his palms flat on the ground under his shoulders. With a groan, he pushed himself up to his hands and knees, head pounding the whole way. His vision swam, causing his grayish hands to swim before his eyes. He stayed like that for a long moment, watching as little beads of blood dripped sluggishly from the tip of his nose and splattered onto the stone between his hands. Even that appeared oddly gray.

Once he could almost convince himself that he felt marginally better, he pushed back to sit on his knees. He nearly overshot, throwing out his arms for balance. The world spun around him and he narrowed his eyes further, determined to remain upright. He briefly considered using the fairy he had but ultimately dismissed the notion. He only had one and wanted to save it for when he was truly on the brink of death. This was only a concussion. And explosive damage to his back. He’d survived worse.

He struggled to his feet, using the wall to drag himself up. He squeezed his eyes shut against the rush of nausea and spiking pain, leaning heavily against the wall. After several deep breaths that hitched against the ash in his throat, he opened his eyes and looked around. Rubble filled the tunnel behind him where the stairs had been. His eyes widened at just how close he’d been lying to the debris, barely a foot away from being crushed. The rubble completely sealed the entrance, trapping him inside. A glint of metal in his peripherals caught his eye and he turned to see his sword discarded beside him. He stooped to pick it up, head throbbing at the change in pressure. Frowning, he stood back up. No sunlight could possibly get through all the rubble, which begged the question as to how he could see.

Claws skittered against stone. He whipped around, the motion driving a spike of pain through his head. Blinking the blurriness from his vision, he saw a blob of color sprinting toward him, wings flapping.  He yanked his shield up. The aeralfos slammed into it, throwing him back against the rubble. He somehow managed to stay on his feet, shoving the monster back and sending a thrust toward it. A wave of dizziness washed over him, bile crawling up his throat. He clenched his jaw, willing his vision to steady as the aeralfos lunged. Its blade smashed against his shield, the impact jolting through his arm and stinging the burns on his back. He struck with his sword, scoring a gash on the aeralfos’s shoulder. It hissed and leapt away. He only had a moment before it swooped in again, lifting off the ground and flying toward him despite the close quarters. He tried to time his attack to cut the aeralfos’s wing but missed, sword stabbing empty air under the limb. He managed to deflect the blade with his shield but couldn’t dodge the claws that sank into his tunic. The aeralfos yanked back on him, lifting him off his feet. It slammed him down onto the ground, perched on his chest. He sent a wild swing toward it. He managed to clip its arm, but not enough to keep it from dragging him up and slamming him down again. He grunted, the pain across his back increasing tenfold at the repeated blows. Blackness pricked at the edges of his vision.

The aeralfos lifted him a third time but he was expecting it. He folded his legs under himself, planting his boots on the ground. He wrenched his torso upright, throwing the monster off-balance. It floundered in the air, trying to keep its hold on him and regain its balance at the same time. He stabbed it through the underarm, the tip of his sword jutting through its collar just beside its neck. It screeched loud enough to make his ears ring, black blood spurting from the wound and coating his sword. It thrashed madly, blade smashing against his shield, glancing over the top and nicking his cheek. He yanked his sword free and prepared to strike again. The aeralfos shrieked and lunged in a blur. Pain burst through his arm as the monster’s blade sliced through his skin, his sword slipping from his grasp. He somehow managed to block the next blow but the aeralfos collided with him all the same. It twisted its hand into his hair, claws digging into his scalp. He didn’t even have time to try and free himself before it wrenched him sideways and slammed his head against the wall with a sickening crack.

His vision blackened, limbs numb. The abyss of unconsciousness grabbed him for only a moment. He awoke immediately to the aeralfos’s sword stabbing through his collar and down into his lungs.

For a moment, the pain didn’t register. His chest grew heavy, ice and fire spreading through his veins and seeping into his skin. Then the sword twitched as the aeralfos adjusted its grip and Warriors screamed. The sound split in his own ears before cutting off into a choke as something bubbled up his throat and over his lips. The monster tore the sword from him and he didn’t have the air to scream a second time. Hot blood rushed from the entry wound in his collar, chest burning. At some point, the aeralfos released his hair and he sank to the floor. He clawed at his chest, trying to suck in a breath. Blood pooled and hitched in his lungs, spraying from his mouth when he coughed reflexively. His vision wavered and dimmed. Distantly, faintly, he remembered the fairy in his pouch. He took a hand off of the wound in his collar, blindly reaching for his pouch somewhere at his side. His fingers touched something cold, stuck strangely to it, slipped off of it, and time suddenly felt like a very distant concept. Moving too slow and too fast and his thoughts unraveled in his head as his hearing muffled to the point of deafness.

This is bad, managed to be the only coherent thought he could maintain a grasp on. The dark shapes making up the remains of his vision shifted abruptly. A shearing agony cleaved through his throat and the thought repeated itself. Instincts screamed at him in garbled syllables that made no sense. Gravity shifted, tugging him onto his side. His body felt leaden and light. Darkness flooded the ground and he sank into it. And he drifted.

And drifted.

Feeling roared through his limbs. Pain screeched along his nerves in the instant before a pink light smothered it. Something fluttered through his chest and neck, tingling, warm. He’d hardly realized he couldn’t breathe until the ability abruptly returned. Air tumbled down his throat, catching and choking on the way to his lungs as the pink light carefully sealed the holes in them. His vision returned, dim and hazy, head throbbing fiercely. Everything before his eyes blurred into a grayish blob, the colors rusty and reddish at the left edge. His fingers twitched. Nausea scrambled up his throat. Just as he felt the need to move, the pink light zipped to hover before his eyes, something tapping frantically against his nose. His brow twitched and he narrowed his eyes slightly, focusing just enough to see the transparent wings fluttering at the back of the pink light. His vision wouldn’t expand past the sea of black dots prickling at the edges, but it was enough. A tiny hand pointed somewhere above his perspective and, with great effort, he lifted his eyes.

Colors separated more properly as he woke more, enough to make out the vague shape of the aeralfos stalking down the hall, tail lashing. A low scraping sound rang through the cave as it dragged its sword along the ground beside it. The blade left behind a trail of blood on the stone. The monster chittered and growled, clutching at its wounded shoulder with its other hand. It turned abruptly and he snapped his eyes back to look straight ahead of him. He halted his breathing, staying as limp as he could, ignoring the throbbing in his head.

The aeralfos growled again and the scraping resumed. He cautioned a slow glance upwards, or left, rather, as he realized he lay on his side, the world turned sideways in his view. The aeralfos continued walking farther away from him, down the hall. He drew in a thin, careful breath, making sure to remain silent. He looked around with his eyes, trying to find his sword. The aeralfos thought he was dead. He could grab his sword, surprise it. How… how wasn’t he dead? Only then did he fully register the pink light. The fairy. As he looked around, he caught sight of glass shards scattered across the floor, a cork strewn among them. He had managed to get the bottle out, then? Then he dropped it and it shattered, releasing the fairy. He could’ve laughed.

Just the slightest tense of his abdominal muscles brought the nausea crashing back. He bit down on his lip, forcing it back, suffocating the involuntary flinch. Sword. He had to get his sword. Right now. He continued looking around, each flick of his eyes sending needles into his brain. He spotted it to his right, lying in the middle of the hall where he’d dropped it earlier. He cast another glance at the aeralfos. Still trudging its way down the hall with its back turned. Slowly, he tested the movement of his limbs. He folded his legs and had to stop due the nausea’s return. He took a steadying breath and moved again, gritting his teeth and rolling silently onto his stomach. His head throbbed fiercely, a shiver fighting to be released from his nerves that he managed to suppress. Something lukewarm soaked in his clothes. He risked a glance down to see a pool of his own blood covering the stone ground. That would explain the nausea and blackness persisting at the perimeter of his vision, then. And the still muffled hearing.

After another glance at the aeralfos, he ventured pushing himself to his hands and knees. He let out a slow breath as he moved, arms shaking, balance threating to buck at any moment and send him back to the floor. His stomach rolled and he froze. He took shallow breaths through his mouth, ignoring the urge to cough. The scraping sound stopped and he looked up. The aeralfos had halted in place, dropping its sword to apply better pressure to its bleeding shoulder. He needed to move quickly. It could turn around at any moment and see that he was still alive. He turned carefully but quickly, reaching for his sword. His hand closed around the hilt and he lifted it directly off the floor, not allowing the blade to scrape along the stone. He sat back on his knees, hugging the sword to his chest. He cautiously picked himself up, rising to his feet.

The nausea spiked in his throat just as he stood, head spinning, hearing muffling. He stood stiff for a moment. The nausea only got worse. He needed to move now, right now, or he was going to throw up and the aeralfos would kill him. With practiced efficiency, he clenched his jaw against every signal his body sent him to get him to lie down. He hunched low, gripped his sword, and sprinted.

The aeralfos whipped around with a craw at the sound of his boots pounding against the stone. It shrieked, reaching down to grab its sword. He drew close enough to see its eyes bug out of its head. Its clawed fingers closed around the hilt. Warriors leapt with a crackling shout. His blade slammed down on the aeralfos’s crown and embedded deep in its skull. Instantly, it crumpled. Its sword fell from its grip, hitting the ground with a clatter. He lost his grip on his own sword, stumbling forward as it fell back with the aeralfos, lodged in its head. Then he immediately fell to his hands and knees and threw up so hard his abdominal muscles cramped.

He spluttered and gasped, tears stinging his eyes. He let out a hoarse sob between heaves for air. He clawed at his chest, felt at his collar and neck. Slick blood met his fingers and he choked on another cry. The wounds were gone but goddesses, goddesses-

A sorrowful chime rung in his ear, muffled and tinny. He lifted his head, struggling to get his desperate gasping under control. The little pink fairy from earlier bobbed beside his head, speaking in pitched chimes he couldn’t understand.

“You’re st… still h-here?” he croaked, voice cracking with every syllable.

The fairy’s wings slowed and it sank through the air a little before darting upwards again. It zipped from wall to wall, giving distressed sounding rings the whole time. Warriors fell back into a sitting position, just barely keeping himself from tipping over and landing on his back. He looked to the rubble still blocking the entrance.

“Oh,” he rasped. “Yeah, k-kinda forgot we’re… we’re trapped.”

He pushed himself back so he leaned against a wall. He let out a long sigh, popping a knee up and resting an arm on it. His stomach still churned and he let his eyes slide shut, head thudding back against the wall. Soft tinkling filled the cave. He cracked his eyes open to see the fairy settle onto his knee, folding its wings.

“Thank you,” he said. “F-for sav… saving me.”

The fairy’s wings fluttered and it chirped quietly.

“That was…” His voice stuttered to a halt. Pain ripping through his chest, burning, burning- He squeezed his eyes shut until little stars winked behind his eyelids. “…pretty rough.”

The fairy chimed gently. Little hands tapped his cheek and he opened his eyes to see the pink glow hovering in front of his face. It chimed again with a bit more pep, pink sparkles drifting from its fluttering wings. Warriors allowed himself a small smile, lifting a hand for the fairy to land on.

“I can’t… can’t understand you,” he said. “But thank you.”

The fairy gave its wings a flutter before sitting on his finger. He carefully moved his hand to rest on his knee again, tipping his head back against the wall with a sigh. His heart fluttered too quickly in his chest, trying to make up for the lack of blood. He took deep breaths, not letting his eyes fall shut if only to try and keep himself awake. He needed to figure out how to get out of the cave, but the mere thought of moving right then made his stomach churn. In the meantime, he grabbed his water flask with shaking fingers, taking small sips. It felt like more water stuck to his dry throat than actually made it into his stomach, but it felt heavenly all the same.

The fairy lifted off his hand at one point, drifting farther into the cave. It froze abruptly in the air some distance away. It dropped a few inches before buzzing its wings again. It chimed loudly, zipping back to Warriors. It bounced up and down a few times, glow too bright for him to make out its figure at all. It darted down the cave and back again. He understood that, at least.

“Okay, just… give me a-a second.” He put away his flask then leaned forward. He planted his feet on the ground and slowly pushed himself up. His stomach didn’t protest quite as violently as before but his head still spun, vision shrinking slightly. He braced himself on the wall then began to gradually make his way deeper into the cave. The fairy zipped back and forth as he went, seemingly impatient with his slow progress. Or maybe just excited. Hard to tell without a reliable method of communication. The ambient light of the cave seemed to brighten the farther he walked. He was too exhausted to puzzle out how there was light at all. Then the columns finally came into view.

Several stone pillars stood in the center of a depressed section of ground. Small arches connected the tops of the pillars, forming a semicircle on the outskirts of the shallow pit. Statues depicting a head and wings stood in the middle of a few of the arches, looking very similar to the full statue of the fairy above ground.

“Huh,” Warriors said, slowing. The fairy chirped excitedly and fluttered ahead of him, sparkles trailing behind it. “I guess… guess it is a fairy fountain.”

He trudged forward as the fairy darted around between the pillars, chiming loudly. As he drew closer, he saw that the fountain sat empty of water, the stone dry. The pillars had a few cracks zagging up them, the stone old and worn just like the ruins above. He stopped at the corner where the wall turned to open up to the larger, circular room, not trusting his ability to walk without something to lean on. The fairy continued to fly around, chimes turning frantic. Looking for others, he realized with a small pang in his heart. The fountain seemed to have fallen to ruin long ago. Any fairies that had been there were long gone. The fairy, seeming to realize this, slowed its desperate searching. It hovered in the middle of the fountain for a moment, sinking as its wings drooped. Then it drifted back over to Warriors, who held out a hand for it to land on. It settled on his finger with a low chirp, glow dimming.

A drip echoed through the cave. Warriors turned, the fairy standing up on his finger. Some kind of black goop wormed its way through the rubble blocking the entrance. Bits of it wriggled free and fell to the ground with drips, the liquid continuing to writhe on the floor. He stilled, watching as more and more of the viscous fluid squeezed its way out of the rocks and into the cave, forming a dark pool on the ground. The fluid stopped seeping through the cracks after a few seconds. Then the surface of the puddle rippled unnaturally. An arm clawed its way out of the surface, landing heavily on the ground with a slap, scattering droplets of ink.

Warriors stiffened and quickly moved around the corner, out of sight. He peered back around to see a second arm emerge and brace against the ground. A head came up, then shoulders, then a whole body as the creature dragged itself out of the pool. The puddle shrank as more and more of the monster emerged until none remained, all of it serving to form the body. It stayed huddled on its hands and knees for a long moment, heaving haggard gasps. The blackness began to fade and grow patchy, leaving behind dull color. The creature stumbled to its feet before it was finished fully forming. Warriors swiftly ducked back behind the corner, holding the fairy to his chest and cupping his other hand around it, partially to protect it, partially to hide its glow. The fairy dimmed its light as if sensing this, going very still on his finger.

The creature coughed wetly, the distorted sound bouncing off the cave walls. Warriors heard a shuffle, a slither, a hiss. It coughed again. Something splattered to the floor. Warriors inched away from the corner as silently as he could, quickly looking around. His sword still sat embedded in the aeralfos’s head leaving him with only his shield. The cave dead-ended at the fountain, giving him absolutely nowhere to hide. He had no idea what this monster was. He was in no state to fight, even if he did have his sword. His heart hammered against his ribs and he let out a slow breath, wracking his brain.

Muffled voices seeped through the ceiling. Hope rose in his chest as he strained his ears. He couldn’t make out words and the voices were too quiet to recognize, but they were human, that much he could tell. A low growling sound left the creature, followed by stumbling footsteps towards him. He sank his teeth into his lip, breaths quickening.

“Captain!”

He sucked in a breath, eyes wide. Traveler. Voices spoke after the shout, too quiet for him to understand. He couldn’t call back without the monster hearing him. He couldn’t risk it finding him too soon before the others had a chance to get to him. The creature’s footsteps had stopped. He heard a very quiet sloshing.

“He…ro,” a deep, otherworldly voice snarled. The steps continued again, faster. His blood. The creature had seen his blood pooling in the hall of the cave. Which would lead it to the body of the aeralfos. And his sword. And it would know he was unarmed. He stuck a hand into his pouch, desperately searching for anything he could use. The voices above grew louder. Then quieter. He bit back a curse, hand darting from item to item. The footsteps grew closer. His fingers closed around his bow. He yanked it out then guided the fairy to sit on his scarf. It nestled into the folds of the fabric, wings folded flat against its back. Silently, he pulled out an arrow. He winced at the soft twang of the string snapping into the nock. The footsteps seemed deafening. He pulled back the arrow.

A shadowed, hunched form with blazing red eyes lurched out of the hall and into the fountain. He loosed the arrow. It slammed into the monster’s face, sinking into its cheek. Black blood flow around the arrow as the creature stumbled back with an ugly screech. Warriors quickly drew another arrow before allowing any time to process exactly what it was he was shooting. The creature ducked under the second projectile, whipping around to face him with a snarl. His heart stuttered, eyes widening briefly at the distorted interpretation of his face. The features grew clearer as he watched but he shoved down the shock. He drew back an arrow, backpedaling as fast as he could without falling. The monster, the shadow, growled and lunged. He clumsily fired the arrow as he darted to the side. The yowl of the shadow told him he must have somehow hit his mark. He twisted to face it but the movement cost him his balance. He staggered as he wildly attempted to regain it, back hitting one of the fountain’s pillars. Black splotches danced in his vision, blending with the dark patches on the shadow’s body and clothing. His body and clothing.

The shadow dove for him before he had the chance to nock another arrow. He scurried to the side. The monster crashed into the pillar and shoved off of it just as quickly, careening toward him. His head spun as his knuckles whitened around the bow. As the shadow approached, he planted a foot and sent his fist into its cheek, just beneath the arrow still lodged in its face. Its head snapped to the side and it staggered. Somewhere through the blood rushing in his ears, he thought he heard Hyrule call his name again.

“Down here!” he screamed as loud as he could, voice cracking. While the shadow recovered from the blow, he traded his bow for the knife on his belt. He slashed in an arc in front of him, forcing the shadow to stay back. It growled, pausing for a moment, watching Warriors as he carefully held his stance and struggled not to waver. He didn’t have to win. He just had to stall long enough for the others to reach him. Assuming they’d heard him.

The shadow darted forward and he darted back, swinging the knife and keeping it at bay. It repeated its attempts to get close to him a few more times, Warriors warding it away each time with the knife. Then it snarled dangerously, hunching down. It lunged. Warriors swung again, the knife slicing along the side of its neck, but it didn’t seem to care. It collided with him and the world flipped as it brought them both crashing to the ground. His head smacked against stone, starkly reminding him of his concussion as pain split his skull in half. He swung blindly, feeling resistance as the knife sank into the shadow’s side. The monster hissed but didn’t move off of him. It snatched his wrist, twisting his hand, trying to get him to drop the knife. He held on until it smashed his hand against the ground. Something cracked and he cried out, the knife jerking from his grasp and skittering away across the floor. Then hands wrapped tightly around his throat, squeezing and cutting off blood and airflow.

He choked, clawing at the shadow’s forearms, fingernails sinking weirdly into the gloves. His already darkening vision darkened even faster, rapidly shrinking. Sharp chiming reached his ears as the fairy darted out of its hiding place in his scarf. He could just make out the pink orb zipping up the shadow and battering itself incessantly against its head. But the monster paid it no mind, only tightening its grip on Warriors’ throat. He kicked as he struggled to breathe. He took a hand off the shadow’s arm to grasp at its face, trying to jab it in the eyes. If he succeeded, the shadow didn’t even flinch. Pressure built in his head, senses growing fuzzy and distant. His heart beat frantically in his chest as his struggles slowed. Something loud jammed into his ears but he could no longer discern any noise aside from the dull roaring. His hands went numb and tingly, fingers slipping off of the shadow’s arms.  A manic grin twisted into the murderous rage on the shadow’s face. His vision shrank to a pinprick, eyes lidding.

Something shifted. The pressure released. His vision flooded back and blood rushed into his head once more. The shadow screeched, the sound dampened by the muffling in his ears. Something grabbed his shoulder and he thrashed, or tried to. His fist connected with something before the hand vanished and didn’t return. Air raked through his throat as he sucked in a desperate gasp. It burned in his lungs, a fit of raspy coughs spilling out of him. The shadow screeched again and he struggled to pry his swollen eyelids apart, adrenaline blazing through his veins.

His eyes opened a crack, just enough to see Hyrule straddling the shadow on the ground, sword gripped tightly in both hands, whaling on the shadow’s head. Black blood splattered with each strike, the creature shrieking. Another sound layered over the shadow’s voice and it took Warriors a moment to realize it was Hyrule screaming. Another shout joined the cacophony and Wild sprinted over to them. He deftly dodged Hyrule’s haphazard strikes and grabbed the traveler’s wrists. Hyrule’s head snapped about to face him, eyes alight with rage. Wild’s words drowned under the ringing in Warriors’ ears, but Hyrule’s face froze then collapsed. The shadow went still and melted out from under him, the pool of black blood seeping into the ground and vanishing.

A hand landed on Warriors’ shoulder. He nearly jumped out of his skin, attempting to roll to see what touched him, which only resulted in triggering another coughing fit. Air streaked through his throat and lungs like lava, each cough only making the pain worse. He struggled to get the fit under control, dragging in thin gasps that didn’t carry nearly enough oxygen into him. As he lay on his back, tears stinging in his eyes, struggling to breathe, a low, rumbling voice reached his ears. The words were muffled to the point of incomprehensible, but he recognized the voice as Time’s. The fight drained from him the instant he did.

He forced his eyes open to see Time kneeling over him with a stricken expression. The old man’s face went in and out of focus, the room dimming and brightening at random intervals. Warriors tried to say something, but only a harsh croak left his lips, scraping against the inside of his throat. Time looked away from him with a hardened expression that badly masked his panic. Warriors let his eyes fall shut again, feeling the timbre of Time’s voice in his ears. Someone shook his shoulder and he blinked to see all three heroes suddenly crowding him. Words passed over him that he could almost make out, between Wild and Time, but his gaze drifted to Hyrule. Aside from the black blood splattered across his face and arms, deep red blood also stained the midsection of his tunic. Warriors reached for Hyrule with numb fingers, grasping at the traveler’s hand and trying to convey his worry despite not being able to speak.

Hyrule grimaced and closed his hands over Warriors’, giving them a squeeze. I’m okay. His lips moved before the words disentangled themselves in Warriors’ head.

“-said she already spent her magic healing him before,” Time was saying. Warriors looked over to him, sound still muffled but at least making sense.

“B-before?” Wild replied. “So, then, all that blood-“

“Is- is his, yes.” Time sounded ill.

A pink glow flitted across Warriors’ vision as the fairy landed back down in his scarf with a mournful chime. Warriors gave a brief effort to sit up, if only to reassure the others that he wasn’t dead, but just attempting to lift his head caused the room to careen and tumble nauseatingly. He closed his eyes with a soft hiss, waiting for the pounding to subside.

“Traveler, can you heal him?” Time asked.

“I- n-no, I’m out of magic,” Hyrule stammered. His hands tightened around Warriors’, voice dropping to a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

“You have more potions, Champion?”

“Plenty.”

Warriors winced at just the thought of trying to swallow anything. He pried his eyelids apart, opening his mouth to express that. His voice barely squeaked in response. Shaking his head caused needles to stick into his neck, so he settled for grimacing and weakly pushing the potion away when Wild offered it to him.

“Captain, you gotta drink it, you’re hurt,” Wild insisted. Warriors pressed his lips together and pushed the potion back again.

“Captain-“ Time began.

“Guys, I don’t- I don’t think he can,” Hyrule said hoarsely. “Look at his neck, it- it-“

Time and Wild’s gazes both dropped below Warriors’ chin. Judging by their expressions Hyrule didn’t need to further explain himself. Warriors relaxed slightly, giving Hyrule’s hand a grateful squeeze. The fairy nuzzled against the skin just beneath his ear and he let his eyes slip closed. Snatches of conversation jumped back and forth over him, a heavy blanket over his ears muffling them as exhaustion pulled at the backs of his eyes. Just before he slid under the gentle waves of unconsciousness, hands grabbed at his shoulders and arms. The world tilted and he groaned, or tried to, too-tight throat pinching off the sound. A sturdy arm looped around his back, holding him upright.

“Just lean on me, Captain, we’re going to get you out of here,” Time murmured beside his ear.

A second arm wrapped around Warriors from the other side, Hyrule taking his left arm and draping it over his own shoulders. Then he and Time lifted him up. Warriors’ legs gave out from under him immediately, the world pitching abruptly, gravity pulling at his stomach and the center of his skull. But Time and Hyrule were ready, already supporting all of his weight. They practically carried him between them as they made their way out of the fountain and through the hall. He tried to walk with the movement, but he mistimed nearly every step, boots tripping and dragging the whole way. Light flooded the hall that Warriors hadn’t noticed before. He lifted his head just enough to see the rubble strewn about the cave instead of plugging up the entrance. Wild, he thought with a resigned sort of fondness as he let his head lower again. He had very little doubt the champion would be the one to come up with the idea to blow up the cave-in that had been caused by an explosion in the first place.

A soft splash sounded underfoot as Time and Hyrule stepped into a puddle. Hyrule sucked in a shuddering breath and Time’s arm tightened around Warriors. Warriors blinked, convincing his eyes to focus for long enough to make out the pool of his blood. And the blade driving down through his chest, ripping apart his lungs- He tried and failed to suppress a shudder, turning his face into Time’s shoulder. Time said nothing, only holding him even more securely.

“Time,” Hyrule began in a rough voice, distracting Warriors from his memory. “Captain, I- I’m sorry for insisting we look around. If I hadn’t, then- then you wouldn’t have-“ A shaky inhale interrupted him. “And I’m sorry that I left, I didn’t- had I known, I never would’ve- I- I should’ve realized something was off sooner, but I-“

“It’s not your fault, Traveler,” Time cut into Hyrule’s quickly spiraling apology. “You were tricked. It could’ve happened to any of us. I don’t blame you. I’m sure the captain doesn’t, either.”

Warriors couldn’t nod, so he just squeezed where his hand gripped Hyrule’s shoulder in agreement. He hadn’t seen what happened to Hyrule after the aeralfos dragged him off, but he knew Hyrule wasn’t the type to abandon his brothers.

Hyrule made a choked sort of sound, squeezing Warriors in return. A blur of blue appeared on Hyrule’s other side, Wild falling into step with them and resting a hand on Hyrule’s arm. The light grew brighter as they approached the entrance to the cave. It stung Warriors’ eyes and he blinked, squinting against it. Time and Hyrule picked their way through the rubble, carefully keeping their holds on Warriors as they did. They paused at the bottom of the stairs, readjusting so they were basically fully carrying Warriors. Then they helped him up the ruined steps and out into the light of day.

#holy shit this is long #linked universe #linked universe fanfic #linked universe fic #ruby writes #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #lu warriors #lu time #lu wild #lu hyrule #every time i use the word pain take a shot #you'll be dead by chapter three #i use pain 150 throughout this whole thing fun fact

[brendathedoodler]

In the Monster-Chain Au (made me and @atatfortatzelwurm) every incarnation of the hero’s spirit has been a monster of some kind, all the way back to the first.

Sky is a Demon, not at all unlike Batreaux, nor unlike the creatures the Demon Lord Ghirahim once ruled over. Still, he was chosen and blessed by Hylia.

Four is a Monster Zora, small and slimy and sharp, with glittering scales. He’s a formidable fighter on land, but doubly so in the water he comes from.

Time is a Skull Kid, an immortal child of the forest—one that was cursed to grow, to age, to take on the form of an adult despite never supposed to.

Twilight is also a Skull Kid with a Wolfos for a Twili form. He feels trapped in the small body that he’s meant to exist in; he’s an adult, but getting people to take him seriously when he looks and sounds like a 10-year-old is an ongoing challenge.

Wind is a Redead that had been adopted by a loving family when he washed up on Outset. He may be dead, but he’s as lively as can be.

Legend is a bright pink Wizzrobe. He’s a magical monster with a sense for magic not even a sage could compete with.

Hyrule is a large, hulking Moblin. To survive, he has to finish fights quickly; running is rarely ever an option for him.

Warriors is an aeralfos with glittering blue scales, something that’s become iconic in his era after the war. He’s a well known and well loved figure, both for what he represents and for his strategies in combat.

Wild is a lynel runt; he’s far smaller than any others he’s ever met, but still larger than any Hylian. They’re lone, territorial creatures, but Wild loves his friends (even if he needs some space from time to time).

#linked universe #lu monster chain au #lu chain #I’m not tagging everyone lmao #this is the absolute BASICS of this au #there’s so much about monster anatomy #and about a hundred scenarios where the Hylians meet their monster selves #I forgot to tag the person who helped me make it because I’m an idiot but anyway

[askganondorftobadragmire]

I thought I might as well share the races of my AU and their symbols (plus Hylia's & Lorule's symbols). Some are just directly what they are in canon; others I made based on symbols/ideas in the series.

List of specific races below the cut.

Humans: Hylians, Terrans {Round-eared humans}, Sheikah and Gerudo

Humanoid Animals: Zora, Rito, Gorons, Mogmas, Draconians {Dragons} and Minish

Humanoid Aliens: Twili, Fae {Fairies} and Demosians & Demouki {Demons}

Humanoid Plants: Kokiri and Skulloroks {Mix of Skull Kids & Koroks}

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Monsters: Bokoblins, Bulblins and Moblins

Monster-like Mammals: Lynels and Keatines {Darknuts}

Monster-like Reptiles: Lizalfos, Aeralfos and Dinolfos

Monster-like Plants: Zunubs {Deku Scrubs}

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Other: Sword Spirits [Fi & Ghirahim]

Extinct: Parella (Evolved into the Zora), Kikwi (Evolved into the Kokiri), Loftwings (Evolved into the Oocca), Oocca & Lolians

#lore

[across-violet-skies]

Febuwhump day 13: "you weren't supposed to get hurt"

Whumpees: Wind & Warriors

Whump Rating: 6/10

TWs: violence, explosives, burn wounds

Warriors slashed furiously with his sword, hacking monsters down with intense focus. Strucken monsters lay in his wake, twitching uselessly as the life drained out of them.

He and Wind had been out scouting when they came across a large monster camp, absolutely riddled with Bokoblins, ChuChus, and all sorts of other low-level creatures. Being Links, Warriors and Wind decided to take on the camp alone, against their better judgment.

Everything was fine– great, even– until more monsters came to join the fight. These ones were stronger– Lizalfos, Aeralfos, Gibdos, Redeads, and… was that a Lynel?

Needless to say, things went downhill for the two heroes quickly. What had seemed like an easy fight soon became overwhelming, and both Wind and Warriors found themselves backed into a corner.

The Captain grit his teeth, defending himself with his shield. “You need to get out of here!” He shouted to Wind, making brief eye contact with the sailor.

“What?” Wind frowned, swiping at a Gibdo. “No! I’m not leaving you here!”

Warriors grunted as a Lizalfos beat against his shield. “Trust me! You need to get away!”

The sailor narrowed his eyes but began backing away nevertheless. He trusted Warriors– and if he called for a retreat, then Wind would follow. But this was different… not quite a retreat. Wind wasn’t sure what the Captain had in mind, but if it got them out of this situation, that was a win in his book.

Wind managed to slip away, still within earshot of Warriors as monsters continued to swarm them both. Distantly, the sailor heard a shout of “eat this, motherfuckers!” before something shot up into the sky, falling back into the thick crowd of monsters. Time seemed to move in slow motion as Wind belatedly recognized the object– an arrow with a large bomb shoved onto the tip

“What the fu-”

Wind was cut off by a massive explosion, pushing the wall of monsters– and him– back with a bang. His ears rang, vision blurry as his head pulsed. The sailor picked his head up slowly, holding a trembling hand to his temple as he glanced around.

The battlefield had been completely leveled. The monsters near the bomb were incinerated, and the rest of them were within the blast radius and were either dead or barely twitching as they carried out their last moments. They had won!

Wait.

The battlefield was completely leveled.

Where was Warriors?

Wind forced himself to stand, shuddering with the effort. The world seemed to tilt and spin around him, but he just closed his eyes and waited for it to pass. Once it did, he glanced around, doing his best to pick his brother out from the crowd.

Wind scanned over the massacre, finally spotting a familiar brilliant blue color that could only belong to Warriors. He shouted, falling on deaf or ringing ears as he stumbled over corpses and dying beasts of all shapes and sizes. The sailor was unusually unsteady on his feet as he tripped over bodies to get to Warriors, determination winning out over disorientation.

“Wars!” The word echoed in his head as he called out, otherwise unheard due to the annoyingly loud ringing in his ears. “Wars!”

Wind skidded on his knees, ignoring the sickening smell of burnt flesh and cooked monster as he kneeled over Warriors. The Captain was rather worse for wear, but his chest was still moving with each wheezing, shuddering breath. He was burnt along one side of his face in a way that reminded Wind of Wild, and-

Wild.

The sailor gasped, fumbling for his necklace. Please work, please work, please work…

“...Hello? Wind?”

Wind couldn’t hear the words, but the noise came through enough. “WILD!” He practically sobbed, speaking way louder than he normally would. “We need help! There’s been a… an accident!” On the other end, Wild replied, and it sounded urgent. “I can’t hear you! Just get some potions and head south!”

Wild probably said something in response, but Wind couldn’t hear it and didn’t care. He leaned over Warriors, swallowing thickly as he assessed the Captain’s state. He was out of his wheelhouse here… Wind had never had to patch up wounds quite like this. Burns, especially ones as severe as these, were not common during his adventure. Warriors was barely even bleeding, and the skin around the burns peeled, unsettling dark gray curling back to reveal red with white bumps underneath.

“We’re gonna make it out of here,” Wind assured Warriors, despite the Captain’s lack of consciousness. The sailor was fading, so it sounded more like “wirr g’nna make ‘t outta here” (which was considerably less assuring). He blinked out of sync, swaying woozily as his body gave up, slumping on top of Warriors as everything went dark.

Wind woke up comfortable. His head was propped nicely on a pillow– perhaps even more than one– and he was swaddled in blankets. Despite all the comfort, the sailor felt achy, head swimming with confusion and exhaustion as he tried to recall what had happened. He opened his eyes with a groan, blinking as he took in his surroundings. The forest, with trees towering high above his head, stood all around him. Bedrolls were laid out around– only a few, and only one occupied (by Warriors)– but no other brothers were within Wind’s sight.

It was Warriors’ voice that startled him back to reality. “I’m sorry,” the Captain murmured, fiddling with the edge of a blanket– Wind recognized it to be one of Legend’s– as he spoke. “I wasn’t thinking… you weren’t supposed to get hurt.”

Suddenly, it all came back at once– the battle, Warriors telling him to get away, a bomb impaled on an arrow as it soared into the sky, only to come back down with a bang– and Wind narrowed his eyes at the Captain. “Yeah, tell me: why the hell would you shove a bomb onto the tip of an arrow?!”

Warriors pulled a small smile at that one. “Actually, Wild taught me. He said Twilight used the same strategy, so I figured it wasn’t completely nuts,” he explained, shrugging. “And you have to admit, it was effective.”

“...Yeah. True.” Wind cracked a smile as well. “When I saw that fly up into the sky– oh man, I thought it was the dumbest shit, but then it hit-” The sailor grimaced, as did Warriors. “...Well. It definitely took care of those monsters. And we’re both okay, so I’d call that a win.”

The Captain sighed, frowning. “If I had known you’d be caught in the blast radius, I wouldn’t’ve shot it,” he admitted, staring at his lap with a scowl reminiscent of the Veteran. “I’m glad you’re okay. How are your ears?”

Wind wiggled his ears, letting them twitch and swivel. “They’re fine. The ringing has mostly gone away by now.” He shrugged. “What about your burns? You look a lot less crispy than the last time I saw you,” he remarked, snorting.

“That’s one way to put it,” Warriors chuckled, running a hand along one side of his face. “Luckily, Wild found us pretty quickly. A bit of red potion and I was healing fine, but ‘Rule sprinkled a bit of that healing magic of his to help the scarring.” The Captain turned his head, letting Wind get a closer look. “It looks pretty good, especially considering how severe the burns were. There might be a little bit of scarring, but it’ll be pretty mild.”

The sailor nodded slowly. “It would’ve looked cool, though.”

Warriors snorted, gesturing toward Wind’s ear. “Glad you think that, because your ear got a little singed.” Wind immediately went to grab his ear, eyes wide as he ran his fingers along the length of his ear. It was… normal? “Ha! Got you! You should’ve seen your face!”

Wind rolled his eyes, grinning. “You’re a dick, you know that?”

The Captain waved a hand, shrugging. “Yeah, yeah. Your ears look fine. And as long as the ringing goes away, then there shouldn’t be any permanent damage,” he mused. Warriors’ smile lessened as guilt crossed his features. “...But I’m sorry you were caught in the blast in the first place. I had no idea it would explode like that– usually my bombs have a smaller radius.”

“It’s probably because you shoved an arrow through it!” Wind exclaimed, raising his arms with a shake of his head. “That was some crazy shit, Wars! It took out all of the monsters!”

“I know!” The Captain agreed, nodding.

Wind snickered, eyes narrowing as he smirked. “Talk about effective… do you think it works with other weapons? Like if I attached a bomb to my boomerang, do you think-”

“It would blow up in your face,” Wild answered, eyes crinkled in amusement despite the stern expression he was trying to hold. “Trust me, I know all about explosives. Arrows are the best thing to attach bombs to, but maybe you two should hold off on that.” The Champion paused, smirking a little. “At least until I can get you both some proper training!”

“Awesome!” The sailor exclaimed, pumping his fist excitedly.

Wild nodded, smiling slipping from his lips as he frowned. “Oh, by the way, the Old Man’s gonna have a talk with you two.” He grimaced, dramatically drawing a finger across his neck. “Good luck! Don’t tell him I taught you!”

As Wild jogged away, Wind and Warriors exchanged glances, grimacing.

“Fuck.”

–> support me on ao3!

#febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday13 #tw violence #tw explosion #tw burns #linked universe #lu wind #lu warriors #lu wild #linked universe fanfic #ao3 #riv writes

[traveleroffarawayplaces]

When the Wind meets the ocean early

This is based on my incorrect quote of post-lu Wind meeting pre-lu Warriors and Time. If you want to see that, you can go here!

Warning, I have not played Hyrule Warriors so I am def. going to get this wrong. Enjoy.

Main Navigation Center My Fic MasterList

Wind, no Link, as he had to keep reminding himself, stared at a very familiar portal shifting in front of him. He scrubbed at his eyes, wondering if he just traveled into the past or not. Glancing over, he noticed Tetra was also staring at the gaping portal.

"Do you think these lead to a different time?" Tetra wondered, staring at the portal for a long time before she gasped and doubled over.

"You okay?" link asked, before he too doubled over in more shock then anything.

It was like something was calling him, no, more pulling him, towards the portal. He couldn't help but stumble a little blinking bleary.

"Are you saying you had to feel this last time?" Tetra asked, walking towards the portal in a daze, but stopping last minute, barely touching it.

"This is weird, its not like last time." Link frowned, he too strolled towards the portal, stopping just short of entering.

"Together?" Tetra asked, tilting her head towards Link as she hefted her sword, no doubt thinking about the black-blooded monster the last time there were portals.

Link nodded. "Lets go!"

_____________________________________________________________

Coming out of the portal, was a total warzone. Literally. Explosions boomed around Link and Tetra as monsters and hylians ran around waving swords, sticks, and bows at each other aggressively. As Link and Tetra walked through, a monster, a bokoblin specifically, ran straight into Tetra's drawn cutlass, spearing it through the middle. Hylians and Monsters paused and turned to stare at Link and Tetra as they took in their surroundings.

"Well, I can say I didn't expect this." Link stated, staring at the sea of monsters. "Well, at least we prepared for a fight!" he said, drawing Four's old shield his shield and his sword and stabbing the nearest monsters. Tetra soon followed with stabbing monsters.

Behind them, the portal collapsed with a quiet ruushh.

Tetra and Link steadily fought toward the hylians, stabbing, twirling, and slashing at all the monsters that came near. An aeralfos swooped from above and Link raised his shield, bracing for impact. But it never came. He blinked and stared at a very familiar scarf and a much more familiar shape appeared on the back of the aeralfos.

Warrior! Holy Hylia! Wait, was this what Warriors was talking about back during our quest? Link smiled at the sight of his friend.

"We must retreat! They have us 5 to 4!" Warriors (or past Warriors? Link had no clue) A faint call of "retreat!" and "Go back!" followed.

Past Warriors landed next to Link and Tetra, beckoning them over. "New people, come over! We got you covered!" Tetra and Link nodded, falling behind Warriors as he waded through the swarm of monsters as he stabbed any monster who dare come near.

They moved for what felt like hours. (Well, I mean Warrior's Hyrule is pretty big, not Wild big but pretty big. Link's brain supplied, and he sighed in return.) Until they had arrived at Warrior's Hyrule town, however it looked a little more run down then usual.

“Link!” A voice called out and Wind turned, staring at a small version of Time without any scars or anything. Aww, he's so young! Wind cooed silently, relishing the moment he finally wasn't the youngest. Artemis, or as Link supposed, Zelda of this time, was strolling towards them. Her armor glittered in the rising sun, and her eyes narrowed into stilts once she saw the newcomers. Both mini-Time and Zelda stopped in front of Warriors and Zelda crossed her arms.

"Who have you brought now Link? More people from portals or traitors?" She asked, staring at Tetra and Link as a predator picking apart its prey.

"No! They are from a portal! Impa saw them come from a portal. Right Impa?" past-Warriors turned towards a sheikah women with a big scar over her left eye, with red eyes. Link instantly recognized Warrior's Impa, however, she was not wielding her giant sword.

Impa merely nodded.

"Well then. What is your names?" Zelda asked, her armor grinding against itself.

"I'm Tetra and that's Link." Tetra said, crossing her arms.

"Oh no, another Link?" A voice asked and Wind started, turning around to see a little floating demon-thing with a helmet of stone. Only one of her eyes were seen and she was mainly black and some grey.

"Uhm. Who..?" Link blinked at the demon. She scoffed.

"I'm Princess Midna, geez. I don't get payed enough. Your almost as bad as my Link." She snorted before sticking her tongue at past-Warriors. "Well, now I am leaving. Good luck with the renaming stuff. I heard that Ravio got some new stuff and I'm hoping to annoy him. He's fun to annoy."

"I think that's mainly Legend's job." Link muttered under his breath as Midna vanished into the crowd of people heading for a big purple tent. Tetra snorted beside me.

"Well, Tetra was it? Follow me and I can show you around while the Link's work on nicknames." Zelda motioned, leading Tetra away. Tetra waved at Link as she was swallowed by the crowd.

"Well, another link. Hi, I'm Link and this is Link." Mini-Time introduced himself and pointed to past-Warriors.

Link nodded. "Yeah I already knew that. Before you ask how, I'm not telling you. So much more fun this way."

mini-Time blinked, staring at Link for a moment. "So all of our names are Link, so we'll need nicknames!"

Past Warriors blinked, then shrugged stiffly. "I've just been calling the squirt Young link. Maybe we could call you Toon link?"

Link frowned, his eyes narrowing in on a patch of ground in front of him. "I mean sure, but like actual nicknames. So if you need to be called someone can't just yell 'Link' and have all three of us come."

Mini-Time shrugged. "I guess you can call Mask? My last adventure had to do with Masks."

Link smiled. "Then you can call me Phantom, since Tetra and I just had defeated Bellum."

Past Warriors stared at them. "Well I'll just go by Link since this is my time period."

"Its settled then. We have Link, Phantom and Mask!"

**

BONUS:

Ravio sighed, staring at the mess Midna made when a clatter was heard. Turning around, he saw Sir Scarf Hero Sir and Mini Link walk in with a familiar third person. Narrowing his eyes, he blinked at the third look-alike Link.

"Ravio, meet Phantom. Phantom meet Ravio." Sir Scarf Hero Sir introduced, pointing to the newcomer.

"Well thank you Sir Scarf Hero Sir!" Ravio cried, motioning Phantom over.

Phantom snorted. "So thats where the nickname came from Warriors?!"

Ravio's eyes nearly bugged out of his head and he felt himself choke. When Phantom was finished laughing, he looked at Ravio curiously with a tilted brow. Sir Scarf Hero Sir and Mini Link was looking at Phantom bewilderingly.

"Wait, who is Warriors..?" Sir Scarf Hero Sir asked, and Phantom and Ravio shook their heads.

"No one in particular!" they shouted in unison. Then stared at each other.

No one moved for a few minutes, before Phantom and Ravio started pointing at each other.

"YOU REMEMBER!" Ravio nearly shouted at the same time Phantom yelled out "OH MY GOD! YOUR THAT RAVIO!"

To say Link and Mask were confused would be an understatement. Mask left after they started to talk about odd things like legend, hyrule, sky, time and a bunch of other stuff. Link just stood there, stuck between questioning how they know each other and why they were acting like long lost friends.

#This was fun. #Fics of kit #lu Wind #linked univers Wind #lu warriors #lu time #lu mask #linked universe warriors #linked universe time #linked universe mask #hyrule warriors before linked universe #before linked universe #hyrule warriors #Wind finally knows stuff #finally able to be the cryptic one #little does he know that is how Time became so cryptic. #Time/mask so thinks Wind is a cool role model and wants to be cryptic as him. #and he does #and so the timeline loops AGAIN!

[quirkle2]

scar map for wars ! if u can't read my handwriting, it's all in text under the cut

cheek burn, ear burn, shoulder burn, left shoulder claw marks: final fight w/ volga

face scar near right eye: cornered by dark links

lip scar: training incident when he was 9

left side burn: turncoat soldier; had to be cauterized

right side burn: first fight w/ volga

arm burn: fiery aeralfos

#qkdraws #suncaster au #suncaster warriors #the legend of zelda #legend of zelda #tloz #loz #loz au #zelda au #tw injury #injury tw #injury #tw scars #scars tw #scars #cw nudity #nudity cw #nudity #idk if these posts need the mature or nudity labels but ! just to be safe i guess #the scars that aren't pointed out and explained are kinda just filler ? meaning they prolly won't be consistent in future art #i just tend to slash them up randomly in my art if they're not like . significant incidents yaknow #anyway :] have Him #i didn't draw his legs but he's got lots of little burnt patches on his legs too #and those r from the deku tree fire #the other suncaster boys r comin ! they all get scar maps <3

[randompotato125]

Dragons,,

we getting more dargons,,,

This is a new dragon that wasn't in BotW!! It has wings!!!! I have some theories on what it might be. It could be an aeralfos, although that is pretty unlikely, since an aeralfos's wings aren't slightly transparent. It could also be a boss like Argorok. This one's more likely, since Argorok protected the Sky Islands in TP, and had a very similar appearance.

I also found another dragon, though just the tail:

This one looks a lot like the three dragons in BotW, but its colour doesn't match with any of them! Which means it's a new dragon!!! The only things I think about when I see this one, is that this might be the dragon god that split the dueling peaks in two, or it's the dragon serving the goddess Hylia.

Anyway, those were my theories on the two dragons in the new trailer! Why do I have to wait til may... I wanna see the new dragons Nintendo please

#zelda #tears of the kingdom #legend of zelda #nintendo #AAAAAAAAAAAAAA #WE GETTING NEW DRAGONS

[legendoflozer]

Hi

Each of the guy's least favorite enemy. Not the hardest to fight really, but which ones are the 'these ones again?'

This is such a fun ask!! I do want to note that I haven’t played all of the games so I might be guessing lol

Also I will be Projecting haha!

Sky: he hates Tentalus with a passion (ME!!!) could never hit his eye and was absolutely drenched and miserable from the rain at the end, a nonboss enemy would probably be the Dekubabas (they’re annoying)

Four: I’ve only played Minish Cap but he was Appalled at Door Mimics because what do you mean a trap door??!!

Legend: Only played a little bit of Alltp but he hates the traps the most, bubbles, bumpers and flying tiles are The Worst in his mind!

Wild: He’s definitely not the biggest fan of Wizzrobes, thinks they’re super annoying to defeat, stop please please!!!! Doesn’t help that they’re elemental either

Warriors: Fiery Aeralfos, period. (I don’t know if it was my camera angles but I Always had difficulties with these guys!)

Now onto games I haven’t played!

I think Redeads are Horrifying!!!! I think both Time and Wind hate those guys!!! And I think Chilfos look super annoying to fight too and tbh all of Hyrule’s enemies look super hard 😅 but I heard that Fokkas and Wizards are the hardest so I think Hyrule would like to avoid those!

#lozer asks #lozer time

[russeliarat]

I think now, it's pretty much confirmed we're getting a very dark game for TotK. The usually bright Hyrule is now all dark, gloomy, and in a constant state of thunderstorms. The only way to escape it is to take to the skies. Its confirmed now that Link's arm has practically been burned to a crisp - its almost unusable - and he too fell down the bottomless hole with Zelda. None of Link's emotions have been happy ones, he's pained confused, somewhat scared, and his general neutral face. There are many enemies, much taller and stronger and scarier than Link, ReDeads have returned and are creepier than ever, Aeralfos swarm the skies and drop Bokoblins from above, the very moon itself becomes the life and rebirth of evil.

And it's a contrasted with BotW's hopeful, almost optimistic trailers in hindsight. If we get even half of what the trailer gives us, I have hardly any hope for Link and Zelda, let alone Hyrule.

#totk #tears of the kingdom #totk trailer #tears of the kingdom trailer #totk spoilers