Siiiiiiiigh - Tumblr Posts
Legend has a minor case of kleptomania. Its gotten MUCH better but after his first quest he used to steal everything, mainly food and money. But its still a thing, there have been moments where Legend has had to remind himself to give things back, because otherwise he'll steal them.
Its even worse because there have been moments where he's stolen from the other links. Small shit, like snacks but Legend doesn't like that he still does even that. Hates that hes got food and monetary insecurities.
Link was exhausted. Uncle had been gone for weeks and he'd run out of food in the house by now. It wouldn't be long until the house itself was gone too. He didn't know what to do. He pulled Uncle's big jacket over his tiny, thin frame and headed out the door, the snow so thick it immediately came up to his mid-thigh. Link sneezed. Maybe people in town would be kind enough to give him food. XXX People in town were not kind. He'd already been run out of two warm stores for tracking snow and trying to grab things with his tiny hands. Link was hungry. He sobbed to himself quietly, hugging his uncle's jacket around himself to try and stay warm. It'd been soaked by now, not properly doing its job. Link paused. He smelled something. Food. He looked around, wondering if he was finally going crazy. A person bumped into him and cursed, whacking him in the side with a cane. Link paid him no mind, he smelled food.
A warm loaf of bread sat in a windowsill about a foot and a half above Link's eye level. Someone had recently put it there to cool for a few minutes. Link's eyes filled with tears. He didn't want to steal it, stealing was bad, but he'd been caught so many other times and he was starving. Link straightened his shoulders and climbed up the wall a little, a burst of nervous energy helping him get his dirty hands on the loaf. It hurt, but he didn't dare let go. Burning his hands was worth getting the bread. A woman yelled from inside the house, and Link booked it, her shouts quickly fading in the distance.
He had warm bread and a guilty conscience that night.
XXX
Months had passed. Almost a year. The house was gone, he lived in the woods. Link had learned that feeling guilty about stealing got you nowhere, it was the stealing that kept you alive. He didn't want to die.
Link's hand moved slowly, reaching for a lady's purse. He could see her wallet poking out of the top, just barely. She was talking with a salesman at the counter, and he was still just small enough that the man behind the counter couldn't properly see him. He touched the wallet, and with the confidence of someone who had nothing to lose, gently pulled it out and stuffed it in his pocket. He swiftly turned around and started looking at jams on the shelf. When the lady turned to find her wallet and couldn't, he took the money out and put it in his bag. A good amount. No one was the wiser when the woman found her wallet in the snow several minutes later, empty.
This is to survive, he reminds himself. He has to do this. XXX Link was Legend now. It'd been years since Uncle had died. He couldn't be stealing things to survive, he didn't need to anymore. They always had food. He could always turn to Zelda after his adventures. She'd always been by his side after a cold, hungry month of people keeping their doors locked and not daring to let any merchandise out of their sights.
But still Legend stole.
He reached for a snack he saw poking out of the side of Wind's pack. Jerky, of some sort. Look at him, stealing from a child younger than him. Legend didn't entertain that thought any further. He got his hands on it and gently took it, making sure not to alert anyone. No one saw him take it, it went into his pack beside the other snacks he'd stored up.
He looked guiltily at those snacks that night. What was he doing, stealing from his brothers? (Were they really his brothers?) He pushed away the guilty thoughts like he'd always done.
XXX
The next day he saw Time's pocketbook in clear view, while Wild was making breakfast. That tiny, scared child that still resided in his brain whispered that it would be easy to steal, it was just sitting there. More money meant more food. Always did.
Legend casually went to go sit beside it and slowly reached to take it, deftly opening the clasps with one hand to see inside. He was met with an empty bag looking down, and a disapproving Time when he looked up. Legend froze.
They'd caught him, he'd been seen. Were they upset? Time was definitely upset. Several heads turned to look at him, and he shrunk under their gaze.
"So the thief wasn't Wind after all. Legend. Care to tell me why you've been stealing?" Time asked firmly. His voice wasn't mad, was only concerned and curious. All Legend heard was anger, anger, get out of my store, rat! His ears went back against his head.
Warriors crouched beside Legend. "We've noticed you've been hoarding food. And taking it from others. Time and I enabled it for a little while, thinking it was an easy habit to break if you were given the right amount of food and water and care but... it seems to go deeper than that. We want to help." Legend's lip wobbled. He'd been stealing since the age of eight, of course he wasn't going to break the habit that easy. He was only sixteen. Why was he stealing from these people? He had a home, back in his Hyrule. Had income from the crown. Had food, that these heroes across time provided. What point was there to steal? The guilt came back, harder than before.
He opened his mouth to say something, then closed it. He just signed "Hard" and squeezed his eyes shut. He could talk about it, but not now. Not when he was being crushed by his own emotions. "Take your time, Legend. We're here when you want to talk. And we can figure it out together."
fin.
…….*sigh*
I want to write. I have ideas. I open document. I type four of the worst sentences ever created in the english language. I daydream the rest of the scene. I close document.
I know…I KNOW. *stares at story I’ve been working on since January*
I…..yeah this is entirely correct 🤦🏽♀️
what people think writing is: worldbuilding, churning out entire chapters in one sitting, metaphors, character building, finishing novels, flawless plotlines
what writing actually is: random 1 am thoughts, zoning out into fictional worlds, associating songs with characters, writer’s block for six weeks at a time, coming up with plot twists at the most inconvenient times
the most fun thing about being a fic author is when you know what’s supposed to happen but when you go to write it you realise that, for the event to be plausible, you need to add another 2k of development and establish like six extra things before you can even get to the scene you need to write, and by ‘most fun’ I mean fuck everything someone take this fucking story away from me I’m on strike
Well folks, from recent observation— turns out that creating mental scenarios in my brain while driving for 6 hours does NOT increase your word count. 😞
really crazy how much i’ve imagined this fic. like it’s soooooo imagined you wouldn’t even believe. not writing it though
