#lu flufftober

You did so amazing writing 60 fics, all high quality exploring interesting character interactions and emotions. Every day was better for seeing a new story go up and its so so cool to read new and old every day. You're such an awesome author and I'm so happy I'm privileged enough to read your fics.

What was your favorite reaction to your fics this month? (Can be a specific comment or just a trend that surprised you)

Awwww thank you so much!!! It was an experience but I did it and I hit more words this year in all to last year! That adds up to a heck of a lot of new content in a month, so I hope people enjoy it over the slower months to end the year!

Hmm I was surprised at how popular Too Little, Too Late the multi-death fic was. But then there were other ones in the similar vein that got little attention. Whump isn’t my normal crowd so I think it just depended on who happened to see it that day.

Collaboratino with @twilightangel83!

Hylia has mercy on the Chain because it’s the day before Twilight—and Wild’s—birthday when the portal opens to Lon Lon Ranch. The air holds the heat of late summer, but there’s a crisp scent from the leaves starting to turn. Fall is approaching.

Part of birthdays is doing gifts and Wild shows his best through cooking. He wants to make something special for Twilight; a reminder of home. The Ordon goat cheese stored in his slate is a start, but cheese alone isn’t going to cut it.

Wild needs backup.

On the day of the birthday, the champion pulls Malon into the kitchen. There wasn’t time to ask the day before and he needs time to work without Twilight finding out about the surprise. With a final glance out into the hall, Wild shuts the kitchen door and locks it.

Malon giggles at his antics. “What’s so important we need secrecy?”

“I’ve never done a birthday before. At least, not that I can remember.” He ignores the way her face falls. “But I talked to the boys and one of the common themes was cake. I’ve made cakes at home, but not birthday cakes.”

“Well, a birthday cake doesn’t have to be a specific kind of cake, although it can. Did you have something in mind?”

He nods and grabs his slate, tapping to bring out his prize. “I’ve got this soft goat cheese from Twilight’s era. He loves the stuff and is always talking about how the flavor of the grass and feed comes through in the goat milk. I want to use it to make a cake but…”

“What cake takes cheese?” Malon guesses.

He nods. “I was hoping you could help? Or have a recipe?”

Wild may not remember his mother, but her smile must be similar to the one Malon gives him. “Let me look through my cookbooks. I think I might have just the thing.”

Wild stares at the recipe he’s presented with. “Cheesecake? Isn’t cheese…savory?”

She arches a brow at him. “Aren’t you the one always experimenting with food?”

With a laugh, he nods and looks over the list again. Most of the ingredients are already in his slate. Cheese, sugar, eggs, cream—Malon pulls down the spice jars and he starts sorting through for what he needs.

“I noticed the recipe listed variations on flavor.” Malon pulls the recipe book over again and flips a page, skimming notes. “Twilight likes pumpkins, right?”

“Oh yeah. Always going on about how great they are in stew and stuff.”

“Do you have any?”

Grabbing the slate, Wild flips through the screens to check. “I don’t.” Some of his excitement fades. “I bet he would have liked that.”

Malon claps her hands together and gives him a bright grin. “Not to worry! I happen to have some special pumpkins I just picked up. It might not be Ordon pumpkins, but it will be a little taste of our home.”

Time truly did find the very best wife. Wild nods and sets the spices aside. “What do we need to do?”

“Well, first we need to roast pumpkins—and for a while. Do you mind scraping them out for me? We can season the seeds for a snack.”

Pumpkin cheesecake, it turns out, is a more in-depth process than Wild was expecting. First, they have to make the pumpkin puree, then bake the spiced crackers to be used for the crust. Then they are crushed and mixed with more ingredients and baked for a few minutes to form the crust.

By this point, Wild is eying the angle of the sun coming through the kitchen window and thanking the goddesses they started early.

The filling, including the softened cheese, is mixed until light and fluffy, then poured into the dish. The trickiest step is transferring it into another dish filled with water. The instructions say it will keep it from cracking.

“It will be okay, Wild. Twilight will love it either way, I promise.”

The champion looks up from where he’s glued to the oven, watching the minutes on his slate tick by. “But what if it cracks?”

“We’ll cover it up with whipped cream.”

“What if it’s underbaked? Or overbaked? What if it tastes terrible? What if I ruined it with the cheese?”

“Hey, come here.” Carefully, Malon pulls him away from the oven to sit in a chair. She sits next to him, holding his hands. “I know how much you want this to be perfect but Twilight will like anything you make. It’s because you made it with him in mind. And sometimes mistakes make the best memories.”

He nods, but the thought of anything less than perfection is bitter.

“Sugarcube, it’s your birthday too, remember? I want you to have fun with this, not stress.”

“It is fun.” Wild ducks his head, suddenly shy. “Baking with you. It’s like…being with family.”

“Absolutely.” Leaning forward, Malon gathers him into a hug. “I promise, Wild, you will always have a family with us. You deserve whatever you want on your birthday.”

The tips of his ears are burning. “My dream is to spend it with my family.”

“Then we’ll make sure that happens.”

The cheesecake doesn’t crack. It cools, goes into the icebox to chill, and Wild stretches across the kitchen table with a sigh of relief. They did it. Hopefully Twilight likes his surprise. Actually…he glances at the closed kitchen door. It’s been pretty quiet today. Where did the others go?

He’s about to get up and go check when Malon pulls out some glasses. “Want some fresh juice?”

Nodding, he settles back at the table. He’ll check on them soon. For now, it’s time to relax.

31 Whumptober Prompts: Complete.

Total word count do the year: 404,234

Wild hooks his arm through Hyrule’s. “Tell me, traveler, have you ever experienced the wonders of a spa day?”

Hyrule tilts his head. “What’s a spa day?”

“What—Hyrule! Only the greatest invention the Gerudo came up with besides sand seal racing! We’re in Gerudo Town! They have the best massages here!”

“Oh.” His friends don’t seem excited. “I was going to do some shopping, stock up on healing supplies, you know?”

“That’s not fun.”

“Well, it’s important to be prepared. Never know when my healing might not be enough.”

“Rulie…” Wild turns to face him, tilting his chin up when his eyes slide away. “Hey. It’s okay to take a break sometimes. It’s good too! You need time to recharge if you want to help everyone.”

“But I need to—”

“No.” He grabs Hyrule’s hand and pulls him from the inn. “You are going to relax with me today and it’s going to be wonderful. You deserve to pamper yourself.”

Hyrule tugs on his hand, even as he follows. “That sounds expensive, though.”

“My treat.”

“Wild!” He stops in the street and the champion does as well. “Look, I appreciate it, but I’m not going to let you spend money on me. I’ve got stuff I need to do.”

Wild blinks at him, then looks around. Some of the other boys are nearby and—perfect. “Hey, Legend,” he yells. “Hyrule thinks self-care isn’t important!”

“Don’t—”

Too late. Legend ditches the others to stalk over. “Hyrule! How could you?”

The traveler shrinks into himself. “I just—there’s stuff I should be doing!”

“No! You are going to take a break. Even I take breaks! It’s important!”

Wild’s grin is malicious as he adds, “Hyrule says I can’t spend money on him.”

Hyrule whimpers at the force of Legend’s glares. “That’s it. Wild, what did you have planned?”

“Pampering! Massage, maybe a scrub, new clothes, jewelry, the works. Want to come?”

“Absolutely.”

Legend and Wild both grab Hyrule’s hands and drag him along, ignoring the waterfall of reasons he doesn’t need a break.

“Ravio. Hey, wake up!” Legend across and nudged Ravio’s wing. The satin bowerbird just grumbles and burrows further into the nest.

“It’s too early.”

“No, it’s not. We’ve got to cook breakfast.”

One sleepy eye peels open to blink at him. “Can’t but hungry if you’re sleeping.”

“You were going to open the shop today.”

“Shop can wait till tomorrow.” Ravio yawns and stretches. His arms go out, making little fists and his wings stretch up to the high ceiling.

Legend coos at the sight because the bowerbird’s wings are beautiful. In the dim nestroom, the color is almost black instead of the normal purple-blue.

Ravio flaps his wings, then folds them back over his back. He props his chin on his folded arms and looks at Legend. “Would it kill you to sleep in? Some of us aren’t built for a life of adventuring.”

Neither avian mentions the fact that Legend normally doesn’t function without coffee, either.

“Stuff to do, Ravi.”

“But nest! Look at how cozy it is!” He rolls over, careful not to trap his wings, and sprawls across the blankets. Then he wiggles a little for good measure. The nestroom window, shade drawn slightly, sends bars of sunlight across his hair.

Legend takes advantage of drinking in the sight. Ravio is lazily showing off his inner secondaries, sleek as always. His loose sleep shirt is caught up on one side, showing off a slightly round stomach. The bowerbird may be strong from lifting wares in the shop, but he doesn’t have the lean physique Legend does.

He doesn’t mind. The vet rather pad out sharp edges with soft curves. When he and Ravio first met, the bowerbird’s wings were dull and dingy and the scarcity of food in Lorule showed. It took a while to come this far, but the bowerbird’s slight pudge is one of Legend’s favorite things. Well, besides the secondaries.

“Link, come on, can’t we stay in the nest a bit longer?” Ravio bats his lashes, which isn’t fair. Haloed by the sun his purple glows a compliment to his wings. Why are his lashes so long? Dark and delicate, framing liquid eyes…

It’s not till Ravio giggles that the bowerbird jolts. He was staring.

Legend makes a show of rolling his eyes, but he crawls over to join Ravio. “Fine, we can sleep a little longer. Now move your wing so I have a place to be.”

The merchant gives a soft chirp and doesn’t move.

“I’ll lay on top of you,” Legend says.

If anything, Ravio’s self-satisfied smirk grows. If that’s how he wants to play it, who is Legend to deny squashing him? Careful of his knees around feathers, he crawls on top of Ravio and then—deliberately—drops all his weight on the avian.

“Link!” Ravio squawks and thrashes, but Legend doesn’t move. “You’re too dense! Get off!”

The vet doesn’t move, just coos and nuzzles at his shirt.

“I changed my mind! Get up!”

In response, Legend wiggles down slightly and coils his arms around Ravio’s waist. That round tummy makes a delightful pillow.

The satin bowerbird continues clucking and fluttering, but Legend doesn’t move. Finally, he settles as well, letting a hand rest in Legend’s hair.

All the heroes suffered from nightmares. It was simply a product of the lives they’d lived; some pushed on journeys too young. Not that Time fell in that category. No, the group-designated old man, he long ago learned how to deal with nightmares on his own.

When he’s home on the ranch, Malon is there to soothe away his fears. Sometimes she’s still asleep when he wakes, gasping and counting down seconds as the moon falls. He’ll roll over and just watch her sleep; chest rising up and down under the blanket. She’s real and he’s not stuck in the past.

Night watch in the Chain means being on deck not just to watch for monsters, but to sooth anyone having a bad dream. Often it's Sky, starting up and reaching for Fi. He needs assurance on where he is and, sometimes, to talk out the dream. Prophetic dreams make him twitchy of any vision he remembers. These regular disturbances are part of what builds his reputation of always being sleepy.

Warriors prefers to be left alone or, if it’s bad, to be shaken awake. He’ll reach for the dagger under his pillow, but won’t lash out. The military drilled too much discipline for him not to check for friend or foe. Often, he’ll spend the rest of the watch awake with whoever is up, then go back to bed.

Twilight rarely shows signs of nightmares, but when he sleeps as Wolfie, he’ll whine and kick his paws. It’s not the kind of dream where he’s running—everyone in the chain has seen those and teased the rancher about them. No, these are truly pitiful whines of a hurt animal. Yet when Time nudges him verbally about them, Twilight just smiles and shakes his head.

Wild sleeps so lightly that he often wakes himself up. It means the chain rarely knows when he actually has a nightmare. Sometimes he’ll pad over to Wolfie if he’s around and curl up with the wolf. Once or twice, Time’s found him cuddled up with Hyrule; hands entwined.

Hyrule goes to Legend for comfort every time. He’s also liable to attack anyone who wakes him during a nightmare; too used to monsters attacking in his Hyrule. The vet, for his part, denies having nightmares but usually seeks out Hyrule or Wild. He also tosses and turns the most beside Sky. One of the few times he sleeps peacefully is when they are at his house, watched over by Ravio.

Four cries in his sleep every once and a while, but usually sleeps fine. He doesn’t seek out comfort from the others, seeming to prefer looking inward. Wind sleeps like a teenager—heavy, and preferably late. He’s also the least affected by nightmares.

They all have their roles to play—both with each other and with those on watch. Time adjusts his comfort to each individual depending on what they need. Not once, though, does he seek out comfort for his nightmares. They are his burden to bear.

Time is dreaming. He knows he’s dreaming because Majora is in his dining room while Malon makes tea. The monster nods at his wife when she puts the cup down, before snapping out a whip. It wraps around her arm and with a yank, she falls. Time reaches for the ocarina—why are his hands so small?

Majora is in his dining room. Malon puts a cup down and the monster nods, then snaps out a whip. Again and again, Time plays the ocarina. Over and over the scene plays out the same. What is he supposed to do? How can he save her? This is a dream…right? But what if it’s not? Can he afford to chance it?

“Old man,” Majora says, turning to look at him. “It’s just a dream.”

Is it? How does he know?

Majora throws out a hand, but this time it knocks the ocarina free of his grip. It spins as it sails, end over end, before shattering on the floor.

“Wake up!”

No, he needs to save Malon! Majora turns to his wife and he can’t—he can’t—

“Time.”

His eyes jerk open and he stares blindly into the night. He—he needs—

“Shh. It’s okay.” There’s a hand rubbing on his shoulder.

“Where…”

“You’re with the boys. We camped for the night. Wild made that extra spicy curry for dinner.”

Time nods and closes his eyes, taking a measured breath in a bid to slow his pounding heart. Then he opens his eyes and focuses on the boy kneeling next to him. Wind. “Are you on watch?”

“Yeah, but I’m done. Was about to wake Four.”

“Right. Thanks, sailor, I’m good.”

The flat look says he believes that as much as when Hyrule lies about stealing Wild’s honey candy. He still gets up and goes to shake Four awake. They share whispered words while Time settles back against his pillow. He doesn’t need to push this on the group. Normally he wakes and calms down on his own. Well, it’s just one nightmare. He’ll be more careful in the future.

Four yawns and makes his way out of camp to sit on watch. Wind messes with his blankets, but doesn’t lay down. He shuffles, glances and Time, and stares at his blanket.

Making up his mind, the sailor lugs his blanket over and drops it half on top of Time. “Hey!”

“Scoot over. It’s cold.”

It’s not, but he does so anyway. Wind squishes himself into the small space and pulls his blanket around him. He’s all knobby elbows and jabbing heels as he settles against Time.

“Goodnight.” It ends in a yawn and Wind burrows deeper into his covers.

Why is he here? Does he think Time needs help? He’s fine. He’s been through it all. Yet the soothing weight of the teen is comforting. He wraps an arm over Wind and his blanket to pull him closer.

The sailor, not yet asleep, rolls over and burrows into his chest. Time wraps his other arm around him and simply holds Wind. Here is someone he can protect and care for. Someone still young enough to enjoy the end of childhood.

There’s a street fair by the Lucky Rabbit Café today, which means the boys will have booths set up. Legend drags Wild with to join him, which means Wild invites Twilight, who reaches out to Time and—well, it’s a big group by the time they are done.

The joke is on Legend, Wild will take any excuse to dress up. He and Hyrule got ready together, giggling as they tied bows on their yukatas. Some of the boys are dressed up while others are in streetwear.

It’s a lively group that reaches the start of the fair.

“Tickets! Get your street fair tickets here!” Gold waves from the booth he set up at the start of the fair. Decorative tickets are stacked on the table in front of him.

“One, please,” Time says, looking past the color to the booths. It’s late afternoon, but colorful lanterns are already lit. Lights crisscross the street and the smell of cooking food is tantalizing.

Gold makes change and passes over a ticket. “Next!”

Sky steps up. “Two please, my girlfriend will be here later.”

“Excellent choice! A perfect reminder of a night out.” He holds out the tickets.

Legend pushes to the front before anyone else can pay. “Gold, isn’t the street fair free?”

“It is!”

Time and Sky both look at their tickets in confusion. Legend just rolls his eyes, used to Gold’s antics from his time with Pink. “So, what are you selling?”

“Commemorative tickets.” At the flat look, he clarifies. “Merchandise!”

Time joins Legend at the table. “I’d like a refund.”

“Sorry, I’m not able to—”

The old man leans over the table, looming above Gold. “A refund, rabbit.”

Gold squeaks and hands the bills back over. Then the group looks at Sky.

“Oh, I don’t mind. Supporting local businesses, right? And Sun will think they are cute.”

Legend points at the color. “No more scamming my friends!”

“It’s not a scam! I’m a legitimate businessman!”

Wild loops his arm in Hyrule’s and pulls him around the table. “What do you want to do first?”

His friends' eyes sparkle under the lights—probably the glitter eyeshadow he applied. “Want to get a snack?”

“I want to eat everything!”

Legend joins Wild on the other side. “Come on, Purple and Pink are supposed to be running the café booth together.”

“Are they selling those little shortbread cookies?” Wild’s only visited the café a few times, but they have excellent baked goods.

“Depends on who was in charge of baking this time. Gleam’s banned, so it should be safe.”

Well, that’s a worrying statement. Still, Wild isn’t going to be kept from possible baked goods. Hyrule’s shoes clatter over the stone as they follow Legend.

“Bun! Bun! Over here!”

Legend turns in the direction of the voice and Wild recognizes Pink, nearly falling over the table as he leans out to wave. Purple is next to him, yanking him back.

Lighting up, Legend heads for the booth. “Hi, Pink! Hi Purple.”

Pink squeals and darts around the table to throw himself in his boyfriend’s arms. Wild rolls his eyes and pulls Hyrule around the kissing and babytalk. And Legends pretends he’s cool. Pushover.

“Hey Purple, how’s it going? We saw Gold at the start of the fair.”

Purple rolls his eyes, straightening the bags of baked goods Pink knocked over. “Let me guess, something that makes money?”

“Commemorative tickets.”

“…you know what? That’s not even that bad. I’m not stopping him.”

Hyrule giggles and looks over the table. “Legend says something about baking depending on who made them?”

“I did and Pink helped, so no need to worry.”

Pink finally unsticks himself from Legend to say, “I decorated mine pink!”

Hyrule starts picking up bags and Wild scans the table until he finds the packs of shortbreads. He grabs a few and passes over rupees. “Where’s Cyan and Gleam?”

“Cyan is selling Café clothes at a booth further down. Gold set him up and he seems happy enough.”

“And Gleam?”

Purple winces. “He’s running a Test of Courage.”

“Did I hear something about courage?” Warriors joins them, making use of his height to lean on Hyrule’s head.

“I really rather you didn’t—” Purple tries, but it’s too late.

“Come on, I want to check that out!” Then he makes a face at Legend. “Are you coming?”

Their friend makes a rude gesture and doesn’t let go of Pink.

“Fine! See you later, Purple. Wild, Hyrule, let’s go check it out.”

“But my pastry!” Hyrule gives the table a longing look as he’s pulled away. Wild passes him a bag of cookies.

They find Cyan before they find Gleam. The color is showing off the merchandise, decked out in one of the café themed Lolita dresses. Suspiciously, there are only shirts and butler outfits on the hangers.

Hyrule ditches Wild’s side to rush the booth. “Cyan! Where did you get that dress? I need one.”

“We’re sold out.”

“Already?”

Wild frowns as he looks around. The chances of every person here buying a dress are…low. Cyan does like clothes. He squints at a large pile behind the table with a blanket thrown over it. A ruffle peaks out.

“Cyan, those wouldn’t happen to be the dresses you are sold out of, are they?”

The color looks and winces. Grudgingly, he pulls back a corner of the blanket. Hyrule joins him, pulling dresses out to look at and passing them back. Wild leaves them to it—even if it looks like a shady back alley deal.

Warriors has little interest in the clothes, still looking for Gleam’s booth. “Wild, I think I see it! Come on, we can go together.”

Hyrule is absorbed and will be for a while, so Wild shrugs and joins him. Gleam stands in front of a curtain and stares at them.

“Two for the test of courage!” Warriors says.

The color doesn’t move.

“Ah…do I need to pay?”

No answer.

Warriors looks at Wild, who shrugs. He has very little experience with Gleam. Warriors turns back to the color. “Do I need to do something?”

“Go in,” Gleam says like it’s obvious. He makes no move to usher them through, so Wild follows his friend through the curtain. It’s dark inside; a boxed-in space.

“This seems a little small,” Warriors says. “Think they—ah!”

Silence.

Wild blinks, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness. “Wars?” Then he shuffles a step forward. “Hey, stop playing—ah!”

His foot hits the air and he’s falling. He hits something puffy with a grunt. “What was that?”

“Wild?”

“Warriors?”

“Welcome to the pit,” a third voice says.

“The what?”

“The pit. We’re stuck in here. Can’t climb out.”

Wild taps his slate until it lights up the area. Multiple pairs of eyes look back. “Maybe the test is to get back out?” He moves to the walls and feels them. “Yeah, there’s enough rock I can climb back up.”

Warriors grumbles, leaning against the wall. He’s going to get his scarf dirty. “Not all of us are monkeys, Wild.”

He just laughs. “I’ll ask Gleam for a ladder.” Then he turns to the wall, feeling for handholds and hoisting himself up in the darkness.

Gleam’s mouth forms a little O when he emerges. “You’re the first one to complete the test!”

Wild’s pretty yukata is now dirty and he had to hike it up and retie the bow around his waist to get out. “Yeah…about that. There’s a lot of people stuck in a hole in here?”

“I know,” Gleam says with a nod. “They all failed.”

“Are you…going to get them out?”

“Purple told me not to leave this spot.”

Wild looks at the color. Gleam stares back, perfectly serious.

“You know what,” Wild says with a smile. “I’m going to go find a ladder. You ah…stay right there. But maybe…don’t let other people do the test while I’m gone.”

Gleam cocks his head and doesn’t answer.

By the time Wild pulls the curtains to the side and feeds a ladder into the hole, more faces are looking up at him. The rest of his group must have fallen for Gleam’s test. Legend’s face is bright red when he climbs out.

“I’m going to wring his neck. I don’t care if he’s Pink’s…family. I’m going to back over him with my car. I’m going to—”

“Okay! Thank you, Legend.” Wild pushes him out of the way so Hyrule can climb, teetering in his wooden sandals. He’s somehow escaped the dirt, although he frowns at Wild’s yukata.

“Aren’t festivals fun?”

Wild rolls his eyes. “It’s been an adventure; I’ll give you that.” Maybe someone should tell Purple about Gleam’s test. Well. Legend is the one dating Pink. He can do it.

Finally, everyone is out. Wild leaves the ladder in the hole in case more people fall in. Hyrule helps him brush his yukata off as much as possible and reties the bow.

Time looks them over, defacto leader. “I think we stick together and get some real food. There’s supposed to be a fireworks show soon.”

“Sounds good!” The boys follow and Wild loops his arm in Hyrule’s again. The street is lit with warm pools of light and steam curls through the air. Somewhere further down there’s a drum performance, rumbling through the stone.