#i dont think i should uhhh @ the prompt tumblr so i guess. uh. hope theyll just find this on their own

[xiao8-bb]

Man, I Feel Like A

A Linked Universe fic

[chapter 1]

Chapter 2: A Sticky Situation [posted on ao3 here]

At what point is it considered appropriate to tell your travelling companions you’re actually a man, and at what point are you supposed to take the secret to your grave?  Wild has no idea and it’s driving him mad with anxiety.  He’s kinda waffling towards keeping it a secret forever at this point.

It’s not like he’s a man all the time.  He was genuinely just having a lot of girl days at first and so forgot about the problem, and he didn’t bother to correct anyone on a boy day when they happened.  But now it’s been a few months, he’s been a boy consistently for at least a week now, and if anyone calls him “she” one more time he thinks he might solve his problem purely through violence and yelling.

This is such a weird problem.  He’s used to the opposite in his Hyrule, where he’d be having girl days and be constantly called “young man” or whatever.

The funniest part?  He wasn’t even a girl when he first met them.  He came straight out of Gerudo Town after talking with Riju on a boy day and didn’t think to correct them, and now look.  It’s been months.  

Gender is an awful curse sent down by Hylia Herself for using Her name in vain too often, and now Wild has to reap the consequences.  What a vindictive goddess.  He endeavors to use it all the more wastefully whenever he has this thought.

Usually it’s not much of an issue.  He calls his ever shifting moods “girl days,” “boy days,” “goron days” for the times he feels more neither than anything.  Almost always, he feels like… half a gender at most.  Like he took a bite out of an apple and found that enough.  

On girl days she fixes in an earring Issha recommended and calls it a day.  She hardly ever bothers correcting people, like how the Gorons won’t mind if you call one sister instead of brother.  On boy days, he puts in a different kind and knows it’s enough.  Even if the Gerudo call him Little Hylian Vai (as they’ve taken to nicknaming him), he feels about the same as he always does.  Goron days are the easiest, where they forgo the earrings entirely.  There’s the little thrill when someone gets it right, but it’s not a big deal.  Link is Link, after all.  At his core, no matter if he’s called Wild or Link or Champion, no matter if he’s called a boy or a girl or, once, a hellion menace to society, he’s always solely himself.  Gender feels more like an accessory than it does part of his identity.

Except it’s been months, and Wild is going insane.  He didn’t realize how much he depended on the occasional slivers of—validation? insightfulness? understanding?—having someone call him correctly.  His friends back home knew, at least in few in almost every major settlement, and they always referred to him correctly after checking his ears.  

At the risk of being redundant: Wild has gone months without that.  In one go, he solved the problem of being referred to almost solely as a man and ended up with the problem of being referred to solely as a woman.

And now the second problem: how in the name of Hylia (blessed goddess who is the source of all his troubles) is he supposed to tell the others?

Hey, I know you’ve been under the impression I’m a woman this whole time, but surprise, I’m actually a man!  Except it’s not all the time, but today I am and have been for the past week.

Could you do me a favor and call me he until I tell you to stop, and to keep doing that if I ever ask again?

You know when that man in the town two portals back said to grow some balls and take up his gambling challenge?  Might’ve found a solution to that.

“What’re you muttering to yourself?” Twilight asks, and Wild nearly drops his armful of mushrooms back to the ground with a squeak.  He turns with wide eyes to see the rancher raise an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing!”

He gets a disbelieving sigh at that, but he’ll take it.  Better Twilight believe he’s planning to dump Goron spice into someone’s bowl than hear what he’s saying before he’s found the words.  

Wild stands up from his crouch, disappearing his haul into the slate.  “Did you get the herbs I asked for?”  At Twilight’s affirmative, they start heading back to the camp in companionable quiet.  They hadn’t wandered too far off, but it’s still a walk back.

It’s Twilight who breaks the silence first.  “Say, Wild…”  He stops, both verbally and motion-wise, forcing Wild to stop as well.  Wild looks up at the man’s face.  There’s hesitance writ in the uptick of his mouth, and his gaze is unreadable.  “You’re a good kid, you know that?”

“Huh?  What brought this on?”

“Ah, it’s been a few months since you’ve joined our group, hasn’t it?  Got thinking, ‘s all.  You’ve got a good heart, so don’t hesitate to let us know if anything’s bothering you.”  He reaches out and ruffles Wild’s hair, smile widening into something genuine when Wild protests and pulls back.  “You’ve been looking a bit down.”

He… hadn’t realized his mood has been that obvious.  Wild looks down and kicks the dirt under his feet, hoping his ears aren’t as red as they feel.  A sincere, well-intentioned talk about his feelings?  Horrible.  Worst experience of his life.  “I’ll—”  His voice catches.  “I’ll be fine, Twi.”

He doesn’t need to look up to know Twilight is giving him that look, the one Wind calls the Big Brother Face.  “If you say so.  Just know we’ll be willing to listen and support you,” he says, gentle as if Wild is one of his goats.  

Wild runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling warmth and dread in equal amounts prick at him.  “Of course.”

And he’s not lying.  They’re all kind people at heart.  No one will care.  You don’t know that for sure, a little nagging voice says.  You lied to them for months, another hisses.  Should’ve spoken up earlier.  He can imagine the twinge of hurt in Hyrule’s face, the particular furrow in Legend’s forehead, the way Wind’s smile will drop a little if he tells them he’s been lying for so long and, worse, that they might’ve been hurting him, unintentional though it may be.  They’re too kind, is the problem.

It would’ve been one thing if he’d told them earlier.  Easier to laugh off, to brush aside as something that hadn’t crossed his mind until just then.  Like it wasn’t an intentional farce—it wasn’t!  Wild isn’t different at all, not where it matters.  Clothing doesn’t factor into it, because he’d wear whatever regardless of gender.  Neither does the way he acts, because a sashay is fun to pull off at any time, and as a girl Link has no problem swimming shirtless.  He’s just been going with the flow.

It feels like a farce though.  He never lied, not really, but he didn’t fix any of their assumptions, didn’t say anything, for months.  It’s a lie of omission that sits sour on the back of his tongue.

Twilight clicks his tongue, waiting until Wild looks back up at him to speak.  “Is it dangerous?  Whatever’s bothering you.”  He doesn’t seem stern or any more solemn than earlier, just an open, neutral expression on his face.

Uncomfortable, yes.  Dangerous?  No, not unless they run into a monster that feeds off conflicted guilt and pent up frustration.  Wild shakes his head.

“Then I’m not gonna pry.  I’ll keep Time from trying to dad you too, if you want.”

Unbidden, a giggle slips out of Wild.  “‘Dad’ me?”

“You didn’t think I’m the only one who’s noticed you’ve been down, did you?  I just got first dibs.”

Wild lets himself laugh fully at that, ignoring the stone in his stomach.  

-

Warriors flicks his gaze to the campfire, where a still-smiling Wild sits in front of a cooking pot.  She and Twilight had returned a while ago, snickering like mischievous children while sneaking looks to Time.  Old Man’s probably going to get some nasty purple chu jelly in his dinner tonight, he’s assuming.  A bit of a surprise she’s got Twilight in on it, though.  

It’s good to see that Wild’s in a better mood than before.  She’s been… not sullen, but a tension none of them can ease has been sitting on her shoulders for a few weeks now.  There’s nothing obvious that brought it on, but it’s heavy enough that even Legend will have worry flashing across his face whenever Wild pulls away from their group with no indication as to why.

“She’ll say something when she’s ready to,” he hears Twilight murmur to Time.  They’ve got some mentor/mentee plan going on to get Wild out of her mood.  Successful, he supposes; she’s been dropping off into frowns whenever left alone in her thoughts for too long, but right now she’s almost definitely brightened up enough to pull a prank.

Still, he can’t help but scoot over to insert himself into the conversation.  “It’s not anything dangerous, right?”  He trusts that she would tell them if it were; Wild is the least team friendly player in their group, but she’s got enough sense in her to know what’s necessary.

Twilight shakes his head.  “Confirmed it wasn’t.”  Here he hesitates, and his words come out slow, deliberate.  “I’m not sure if it’s… one of her memories?  I don’t remember there being one before she started acting weird, but it might’ve come as a dream.”

Warriors purses his lips, thinking.  It could be.  He’s certainly entertained the thought before.  Wild doesn’t fall into a memory too often, but they’re hard to hide, so everyone became aware of her amnesia and subsequent flashbacks sooner than later.  Almost always she’ll draw into herself a bit, hidden away in a large cloak until the world stopped being too loud and bright for her, and even then Wild would still be withdrawn until something coaxed her out of her shell.

It doesn’t feel like it, though.

He takes another look at Twilight’s face.  It says it all.  “You don’t think that’s it.”

The rancher really is a farm boy through and through, honest as the day is long.  “I overheard her talking to herself earlier, but I’m not sure what I heard and it’s not my place to say anyway.”

A sigh, and Time hauls himself up to his feet.  “Then we wait,” he says decisively.  They watch him amble over and strike a conversation with Four about the forest they’ve landed in.  Twilight goes back to sharpening his sword.

Warriors’s mind is still stuck on Wild, though, and he’d bet a bag of rupees so is Twilight’s.

He prides himself on being a good commander.  Quick to judge a situation and quick to notice if anything is wrong, able to lead squadrons of forces with only minutes to prepare.  Often, his command was too numerous for him to know everyone, but he did his best to be there for anyone who needed it.  Perhaps it’s foolish of him—too many faces, half-familiar from life, unmistakable in death haunt him to this day—but he refuses to give up caring.  It hurts, but to hurt is to be alive, and he carries his ghosts with him even as he locks eyes with a new trainee.

Here, their motley group is a lot smaller than the armies he used to command.  He’s never been an older brother before, but he finds himself falling into it naturally.  It’s easy to tug on the back of Hyrule’s tunic to keep him from wandering off, normal to nudge Four and encourage him to keep talking about smithing, effortless to pull Wind into a friendly scuffle.  With Wild, he finds himself looking after her like it’s instinct.

Maybe it’s because she’s still young at heart.  The scars riddling her face and body age her up years, but there’s something heartwrenchingly childlike about the way she’ll wander off from the group to catch a bug or pick a plant, not understanding why they’ll scold her to stick with them.  She’ll often show her finds off, grinning like there aren’t a million twigs in her hair and mud on her face.

It’s painful to see someone like that pull away without any indication as to why.

He sighs, leaning back on his palms to look at the evening sky.  The brightest stars are beginning to shine, flickering around the rising moon.  The smell of sweetly roasted vegetables wash over him.  Quick headcount: Sky and Wind sparring; Twilight sitting nearby; Legend checking their perimeter, Hyrule with him; Four and Time talking about where to go; Wild at the campfire, standing up and stretching.

“Dinner’s ready!” she announces, loud enough that Legend and Hyrule should hear.  Without waiting, she begins pulling out plates from her slate and spooning out portions.  Warriors watches her closely enough that he sees the glob of something purple being hidden under some greens.

Definitely purple chu jelly from Twilight.

It travels down the line, Warriors hesitating before handing it off to Time, who’s last.  It’s all in good fun though, and Wild’s figured out (after much trial-and-error) how to make sure the jelly doesn’t kill anyone, so he keeps quiet, only checking his own plate to make sure he’s not going to be a victim as well.  Wild catches his eye and winks.  Twilight, across the campfire, has a little feral edge to his grin.

Warriors watches with bated breath as Time takes a scoop of his food.  It’s riveting, seeing his expression go from pleased and content to I-will-kill-whoever-did-this.  Reminds him of the little pissed off kid he knew before meeting him again as an adult.

Time raises his head to glare balefully at Wild.  “Why did you do this.”  It falls flat of being a question.

“Do what?” Wild asks back, eyes wide and confused.  “I thought you liked carrots?”

Wind giggles into his own meal, shoveling another bite into his mouth when that earns him an unamused look.  “I didn’ do nothin’!” he protests before Time even starts saying the accusation.  “Yer face wa’ funny.”

“Don’t talk while chewing,” Sky reminds him.  “Time, what’s wrong with it?  Mine tastes fine?”

Without speaking, Time takes another scoop and presents the purple chuchu glob.  The camp falls into hysterics, speaking all at once.

“Some weird seasoning you’ve got there, Old Man.”

“Are you going to need a potion?”

“Where did someone even get their hands on that?”

Warriors sits back, letting the rambunctious laughter and chatter surround him.  Wind denies it some more, pointing to Hyrule, who was apparently looking at Time’s dinner too intently.  Hyrule denies it right back, pushing the blame to someone else too.  There’s shouts of protest as accusations go flying.  He tunes it out, just smiling to himself.  A small prank, but a big reception.  It’s nice to see spirits so high, especially Wild’s.

He’s too busy feeling reassured at Wild’s bright, impish grin that he nearly misses the accusation thrown at him.

“—paused before giving it to Time, too.”  Legend says this nonchalantly, but one’d have to be blind to miss the smirk he shoots Warriors as he says it.  “Seems suspicious to me.”

Twilight makes a faux thoughtful noise, failing to hide his laughter as Warriors whips his head around to stare in betrayal.  “He was rummaging through our bags earlier, could’ve taken it from mine or Wild’s packs then.”

Warriors splutters, “I was taking inventory!  You know, the thing I do every other night?”

There’s a little gasp from Four, too theatrical to be natural.  “He was staring at Time when we started eating too…”

Betrayal!  Ganged up on by the miserable lot he dared call his brothers!

Clearly they’ve figured out it wasn’t him.  Wild’s just about collapsed with laughter at the sight of his panicked face, but it’s obvious no one wants to spoil her fun.  Time gives him the sternest, most I-am-your-father-listen-to-me face he can muster and says, “What do you have to say for yourself, Warriors?  Why would you put purple chu jelly in this delightful meal Wild worked hard on?”

Warriors is speechless.  Wild titters, looks up to see Time raising an eyebrow at Warriors, and breaks back out into gleeful wheezing.  Wind and Legend don’t seem to be far off, delighted at his misfortune.  

Golden goddesses, the things he does for family.  “You’ve done it,” he says, strangled, “you’ve caught me in my dastardly tricks.  Oh woe is me, what punishment will I be given?”  Sky is the next to break, hiding his laughter behind a hand.

Time, the little snot, looks at him with thin, disappointed lips and mirth dancing in his eyes.  “This,” he intones gravely.  The purple chu jelly jumps from his spoon and smacks into Warriors’s face.

Even Twilight is losing it now.

“ARGH!” he squawks, not expecting Time to actually go through with it.  It’s to the others’ cackling that he slumps to the ground, groaning at the sticky feeling on his cheek.  He can deal with a little grossness (no matter what Legend says), but it’s not a nice feeling when he could be clean and not sticky.  

Someone hands him a clean cloth.  Hyrule, bless his heart.  It’s one of Twilight’s cloths, so he feels no guilt in scrubbing off the jelly and throwing it at the traitor himself.  Twilight takes the assault with a grin, the infectious mood lingering even as the laughter calms down.

“Here.”  A scarred hand dips into view, and Wild refills Warriors’s bowl with some fried greens fresh from the pot.  Steam rises up lazily.  She smiles at him through it, cheerful and alive like she hasn’t been for the past week, and he instantly forgives her for pulling him into her prank.

He takes a bite and sighs.  Fresh, still sweet yet crispy from quickly frying it.  “Delicious as ever,” he compliments, trying to force some grudge into his tone.  Wild sees right through him and beams wider.  “Oh, shove off.”  He wipes a hand, still a little sticky with goo, across her nose, grinning himself when she shrieks a little in delight.

“Be careful, mister, or else the goo’s going in your meal next!” she teases before scampering off to her own meal.

It’s sometime after dinner that Time approaches him.  “Thank you for playing along.”

Across the clearing, Wild’s wide grin has dropped to a faint upturn of her lips.  She’s scuffling with Wind and the large wolf that follows their group every now and then, trying to claim a sleeping spot.  She’s happy, and after the past week of halfhearted interaction, it feels like everything.

“Ah, it’s nothing.”

-

The sun’s rays are beginning to skim past the treetops when Wild wakes up.  Legend notices immediately; there isn’t anything hostile in the area, so he’s been sitting closer to camp for the past hour now.  He doesn’t say anything when she sneaks out—at least, not at first.  When she doesn’t return after 10 minutes, 20, he shakes Twilight awake to keep watch before following.

She hasn’t gone far, just within hearing range if someone shouts.  Legend stands at the treeline, watching her pull and put back different earrings from that slate of hers.  Studs, hoops, drops, different fashions he can’t name, all reflective of masterful craftsmanship.  They gleam in the early morning light as she holds each pair up for examination.

“You can choose today’s accessories from the camp, you know,” he calls out.  Wild, to her credit, doesn’t react other than her shoulders raising a few centimeters.  “Pretty sure Wind won’t try stealing them.”

That earns a short laugh.  “He wouldn’t dare unless he wants his breakfast burned.  Besides, I’m just… trying to decide how I feel today.  Hard to do that around that noisy lot.”

Legend stops in his tracks.  Normally he’d like to tease, but there’s something brittle about her voice.  “Want me to leave then?” he offers.  He may be a prick, but he’s not about to inflict his presence on someone who needs some time alone.

Finally, Wild turns to look at him.  “No, stay,” she says, and even she looks surprised at how firmly she says it.  She pats the stone next to her.  “C’mon, sit with me for a while.”

It’s nice and quiet in the spot Wild’s chosen.  He sits with his back to her, not wanting to crowd.  Faintly, the tittering of birds sweeten the air, and if he closes his eyes and focuses he can smell the rich petrichor lingering from yesterday’s early evening rain.  Wild goes back to picking out earrings, the faint chime of her slate’s magic rhythmic in its repetition.

It’s like this often, Legend finds.  They’re both pretty silent people on their own, and perhaps not as close as they are with some of the others.  Sure, they jibe and bicker, but to avoid too much tension they end up not seeking each other out.  Legend isn’t even sure if he wants to be close to Wild anyway; she’s almost guaranteed to die violently young and violently so, given her track record of scars and reckless combat techniques.

Still, his treacherous heart cares, and he heaves a sigh as he thinks of her recent melancholy.  A conversation wouldn’t hurt, right?

“You’ve been wearing a lot of stud earrings lately,” he says.  He doesn’t turn to look, but the chiming stops.  “Maybe one of those dangling ones?  The amber gems give a nice glow to you.”

Quietly, so faint he almost misses it, Wild replies back, “...Maybe.”  He risks a glance to guess her expression; she’s staring distantly at her hands, eyes locked on a struggle Legend can’t see.  “Change things up a little, right?”

He raises an eyebrow, though she doesn’t see it.  “You don’t have to go with my suggestion,” he points out.  “If you want to wear studs, wear studs.  They get tangled up less in the twigs and branches you insist on jumping headfirst into, at any rate.”  

“And if I don’t want to wear any at all?”

What an odd question.  Legend fully turns around to squint at her.  “Then don’t?  What, am I missing some watchmen that will arrest you if you don’t put some metal in your ears?”

Wild huffs a laugh at that, but it’s half hearted.  “No, I don’t think so.  Don’t mind me, I’m just overthinking things.”

“Overthinking… types of earrings?”  He doesn’t mean to sound so doubtful, but Wild is both a ridiculous fashionista and someone who could not care less for her appearance.  She’s got a multitude of outfits, sure, but she’s never exactly cared if they matched or how she looked as a result (leading to a very distressing time where she sprinted through Twilight’s Castletown wearing her Barbarian shorts, clunky torso armor that glowed, and an odd mask that looked like a fish was eating her head.  He’s pretty sure they’re banned from the inn for life).

She shakes her head.  “No, forget it, it’s… related, but it’s not—”  This time, her head shake is harsher, more aggressive.  “It’s got some meaning for me,” she reveals reluctantly under Legend’s interrogating stare.  “What type of earrings I wear, I mean.”

He considers this, lining it up with the past week.  He almost wants to ask “why would you ever wear earrings that make you feel horrible?”, but obviously that isn’t an option.  Choosing wearing a specific type probably isn’t an option she has, either.  Something dictates the type she wears regardless of how she feels, but how could a type of earrings make one feel bad…?

Hylia, this is giving Legend a headache.

“Are the earrings hurting you?” he settles on asking.  There’s no way he’s getting the full story out of her anytime soon, but the important answers need to be established first.

“Wh—?  No, they’re fine.”

“Do they upset you?  Is that why you’ve been weird this past week?”

“... it’s not the earrings, not really.  Kind of?  It’s complicated.”

“Uncomplicate it, then.”

He gets a jab to the side for that.  “I don’t know how to,” she admits, bitterness sharpening her tongue.  “I’m working on it, okay?  I’m… I’ll be fine, just give me some time to figure it out.”

Legend jabs her right back, tickling her sides for good measure and ignoring her squeak.  “Well, figure it out faster,” he says drolly.  “Whatever it is you’ve got going in your head can’t be that bad, considering it’s mostly empty in the first place.”

Now that earns him a tackle right off the rock, and they tussle around like children for a few minutes before wordlessly agreeing to stop, flopping onto the grass to stare at the brightening sky.  Neither of them are breathing very hard, but Legend thinks he can hear Wild’s become lighter, less burdened.  He bites his tongue to focus his thoughts.  

“Just wear whatever you feel like wearing, you menace.  If it’s not the earrings making you feel bad, then deal with whatever is making you act like a kicked puppy.”  He kicks out blindly and catches her ankle.  “If it’s one of us, or something we’re doing, or, I don’t know, maybe you’re just allergic to the grass here, tell us.  If it’s something from your past, then however you deal with it is up to you, but between the nine of us we’ve got all sorts of trauma covered, it’ll be easy to commiserate with someone.”

He rolls over to speak and finds her already looking at him.  “Uncomplicate it.  Whatever it is, either you’ll get past this or you won’t, but things will only get worse if you let it stagnate.”

Wild breaks eye contact first, sitting up but gaze fixed low.  At this angle, he can’t see her face.  “Get it over with, basically.  I guess that’s good advice.”

The sky looks bright enough that the others are probably awake by now.  “Of course it is,” he says.  She’s not going to take it, at least not right now, he can tell.  “Decide on the earrings yet?”

Clacks of fingernail against glass.  The now-familiar chime of the Sheikah slate.  “Studs again today.”

“Amber?”

“Amber, yeah.  You made a good point.”

“I always make good points.”

A snort, and they fall back into silence.  It feels like a moment in eternity before Wild speaks up again.  “We should make it back to camp.”  She sounds almost regretful, and Legend feels it too.  The area is warm and peaceful, and it feels like a crime to have to spend the entire day trekking their way through an adventure no one signed up for.  

Neither of them move.  He closes his eyes, feeling the morning sun warm his skin.

“Legend?”

It takes a moment to respond, the siren call of sleep beginning to pull at his senses.  “Hm?”

“Thank you.”

He hums, not resisting the lull of the little bubble they’re in.  “No problem.”

#linkeduniverse #botw #fic #lu wild #lu warriors #lu legend #lu twilight #theyre all there but im pretty sure those're the big ones #man i feel like a (fic) #did i forget to post this on tumblr! maybe. who knows. haha...ha........ #yeah i forgot #cw misgendering #i dont think i should uhhh @ the prompt tumblr so i guess. uh. hope theyll just find this on their own #i Will edit ch1 to include the link to this tho #<:3c enjoy!!!! hopefully