#hcnourbound

Confusion mars the woman’s expression as she tilts her head slightly, watching as the Dragon Knight quietly approaches her. Though he is large in stature, he moves almost silently as he nears, soon only feet away. “I was not expecting to see you in this region,” she states, brows furrowed slightly as she wonders what the reasoning is behind his arrival.

          he knows who, without needing more. the sorceress that begun it all, who started the fall into war  &  death  &  regret, she who laughed at his forces as they fought for what they believed in. as they fought for WHO they believed in without their free will being  cruely taken from them  without second thought or concern. her laugh, voice, her words, he remembers them all --- every single one.

          the playfully degrading tone, the demands from forces commanded as she sat back  &  watched  ;  the twisted, broken, disturbing temple she resided in. he remembers with clarity that he despises, when other memories fog around it. it’s as if she was meant, specifically, to stick out in his mind like a sore thumb. eyes downcast, lost in thought of what he doesn’t want to remember, but here he sits --- doing exactly THAT.  

          ( his heart beats, chest tightens  &  stomach churns. whether it’s hatred or uncomfortable sickness doesn’t matter, it all feels the same. )

          a silence overtakes them both, thickening the air by one degree too many, the warrior overtaken by the clawed grasp inside him.  he feels ashamed for it.  so much time had passed since he was so self conscious in front of the beast,  &  yet now, when the witch is mentioned, it all comes crumbling down. 

          “ ....... plea ... “  he’s quiet, too quiet to be heard, clearing his voice as his head dips. arms move to cross, but instead end up more to hold onto each other.  “ please -- please, don’t .. n-ot her. not about h-her. “      please, shut up. 

     There was little that would stop Link while he was on the road - monsters, rain, and snow were instabilities that he would often push through with a stubborn sort of tenacity. The sandy-haired swordsman hated having to stop, and unless he needed food or sleep, the hero would normally keep going until he reached his destination.

     Lightning storms, however, were one thing that he’d learned not to test. The swordsman had experienced a few close calls when it came to being caught out in such violent storms, close enough that he knew better than to run around while the sky flashed and rumbled. Sometimes, he was forced to take shelter beneath a tree and pray that it would be enough - today, he was a bit luckier.

     The sight of an old hut in the distance had Link thanking the gods as he rushed through the downpour, ears twitching at the sound of thunder crashing overhead. Though the Hylian was soaked to the bone, the weight of his clothes did nothing to slow him, booted feet splashing through puddles as he darted through the storm.

     He expected a chilly, dusty hut at best, long forgotten in the wake of the calamity that had overtaken Hyrule a century ago. Imagine the hero’s surprise when warmth washed over him upon throwing open the door, causing the sopping wet boy to shiver when it met with his form. Blue eyes blinked upon realizing that there was a fire already going in the old hut’s hearth, and that someone else had already taken shelter here.

     Well, this was almost... strangely awkward. It felt almost as if he’d barged in, though the swordsman imagined that the stranger was as much as traveler as he was, for the old house looked worse for wear, even with the heat of the crackling fire. Regardless, Link found himself giving a tentative wave as he stood dripping in the doorway, as if he was silently asking for permission to enter.

//link senpai pls main me

It was just six days after the defeat of Ganon. The Master Sword was back in its pedestal. The Triforce had been returned to its rightful owners. Lana still needed to find Cia, but first, there were more pressing matters. The war against the forces of evil had taken a large civilian toll, and the sorceress of time was tasked with canvassing the villages, to make a count of the living and aid in their recovery.

And, for this task, she had one of the unlikeliest of companions.

    Send ‘hc + a word’ that you want a headcanon about my muse involving that word

Sleep, sleep is quite the factor with Xigbar. He either sleeps or he doesn’t, there isn’t really a in between.  It’s a difficult concept for Xigbar to grasp, compared to how sleeping used to come so naturally to Braig ( even if he’d just sleep at the drop of a hat, or it would take some time. Whether he dreamed or not, or even had a nightmare. He still GOT sleep. )

Sleep seems to be something that Xigbar has lost a grasp over. Whether he wanted to or not. At best he ends up laying in bed for hours on end, not really sleeping ( Do nobodies technically need to sleep? That could be debatable but there is something about recovering energy - their power through sleep. So their all ready for their missions. )  

Xigbar seems to act on whatever energy he does have or just pushes through, even if on some days he isn’t performing to his usual standards, he still gets the job done some how ( one way or another. ) It can though, lead into him taking longer then he set out to do with certain types of missions or coming back a lot more battered then he might usually be from say, missions involving dealing with a heartless.

Ƭнє ѕαηɗѕ are ever-shifting across golden, pink and even stranger-blue landscapes. The familiar winds bring strange company, and though the heat resonating from the very  depths of this ones soul, he cannot help but find a stranger accompanying it.

The sun is perilous, a challenge in and of itself, he has little doubt that under all of that amour lays a struggling wayfarer much akin to himself. He is unsure of your struggle, but is keen to understand.

Ƥєянαρѕ he is not meant to know-- you hide it well-- regardless of this, he shall greet you as though he had known you all of your life.