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It's okay, you can call me a coward in my own ask box, you don't need to politely use 'shy'.
Well if you want something...
Disclaimer: This is my characterisation and interpretation. Everyone can do what they want forever.
No essay. But bullet points of random thoughts be upon ye.
There's really three basic ways to write him: he is one character (minimal presence of colours) , four characters (the colours taking turns to drive), or five (Four is his own person and the colours are there sometimes). I write him as five.
Four is similar to Legend in his strengths (clever, confident in his abilities, versatile, self reliant) but different in temperament. Four runs cool where Legend runs hot.
The two of them are the smart boy dumbasses.
He is a muted version of the colours and the best all rounder of them. He's not as smart as Vio but not as cold as Vio, not as sociable and cheerful as Red but not as much a crybaby either etc. The colours min-max, Four is balanced.
Everything they are they get from him. He's just not as bad lmao.
This can be used as a source of insecurity if you want 'am I just a lesser version of them' 'I am no one's favourite', especially if he hasn't been back together long.
He tends to get lost/forgotten in all the bigger personalities, including the colours. Make it a feature not a bug. No one is specifically looking out for him, and he usually has his shit together, so things might go unnoticed longer.
Everyone's friend, no one's best friend.
Excellent team player, always smoothing things along in the background. Both materially and socially. Generally a stabilising influence.
Bit of a schemer, little bit manipulative. Generally uses it for good, see above point. Remember Vio gets it from him, not the other way around. Good liar, good at talking around things.
Observant. More than he lets on. Understands people better than a lot of them. Has some actual emotional intelligence omg.
People tend to write him as chill, and he is, but Blue's in there too. He's got a temper but his fuse is longer than Blue's and he's got more ways of dealing with problems than Blue who did not get the braincell /affectionate.
Practical and pragmatic. Realist rather than idealist. He is good but he's the sort who could make himself do something bad for a good purpose. 'Could you kill one person to save 10?' Four's one of the ones who could.
If you look at Link in MC and at the start of FSA, there is a boy who never lacked for self confidence. Excellent child hero. FSA manga was about learning teamwork and maybe some humility, not to believe in yourself
Chronic overachiever as a child
Related: his damage is from FSA more than MC and FS.
There is something sombre at the core of him.
Self contained. To a potentially detrimental extent.
The colours love each other, and they love Four. He's not the self loathing type because of this. Also because of this he has more self preservation instincts than most of the others.
Constellate thing: The colours don't need to relearn the FSA teamwork lesson . They don't need to relearn to love and value each other. They need a manual for the gundam lol.
Another Constellate thing: the colours refer to Four as Link, but he increasingly refers to himself as Four.
Four has loved every version of himself.
I think he was an absolute disaster for a while after putting himself back together. He came out of that pretty well adjusted but oh god was it a rough adjustment period. There's potentially some baggage at home from it.
I did not have enough material for a full oneshot, but enjoy the brief return of wolfbrain Twi.
Twilight herding the chain around like a stressed-out sheepdog.
~
"Twilight is not on watch tonight, he's gone insane again."
His puppies are tired, he can tell, but they cannot stop, and so he must protect them until they're safe in a den. He needs to keep them together, he circles around the back of the group again. All together, all safe.
"Wind, don't call him insane." Biggest pup walks in the middle of the group, behaving himself, good boy.
"I mean it with full affection, full adoration, with my whole entire fondness, everyone gets weird when they're tired, but he absolutely would have bitten Wild for wandering off the path."
"He wouldn't have bitten me hard."
He counts his eight beautiful puppies. Eight beautiful puppies and— seven beautiful puppies and one mischief puppy. He veers to the left of the group and mischief puppy gambols back to the others giggling.
"Hyrule, stop teasing him."
"But it's so cute!"
He loves them, he will keep them safe. From the monsters and themselves. Safety in numbers, safety in the group.
Pup with sword-friend rubs his head, "You're doing amazing Twi. Good boy."
Two Moon Pearls and the Master Sword turns one today.
The first chapter was published exactly one year ago. After a month or two of hanging out with so many talented writers and artists in this fandom, I decided to give writing fic a shot, to give creating something a shot.
I now have 145k words published on AO3.
Guess I have a new hobby now, huh? I finally stuck to one.
I've made so many friends, I've gotten fanart, I've had such an amazing time, even if I now know Writer Suffering™️. Thank you all so much.
Art by @seyph, and the first fanart I ever received 🥹.
Happy Birthday, Moon Pearls. You changed my life. 🌕🌕
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An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
They watch him; curious, wary, but not in the same way they watch Wars. Sky does not have that effect on people.
That is —perhaps— their mistake, and his own, because he does not realise what's coming next until it's too late.
Sky takes a deep breath, looking a little sorry, but fond in that way he always seems to be of the rest of them, and breaks the equilibrium they've found.
"Good morning," he says, then holds up his hand to show them the Triforce mark on it, "my name is Link."
The response is immediate; Hyrule grabs his sword by instinct and leaps to his feet then back a step, but Legend scrambles backwards, eyes wide with Wars doesn't know what. Fear perhaps, or just shock.
Sky catches Legend's skinny wrist before he can back out from the canvas and into the mud and rain.
"Shh, it's okay, it's okay," he soothes, "Link, we're going to fix this, whatever it is. You're not going on like this any longer."
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
No time, there's no time to wait for the others or to run back for his things, if they lose them now it might be forever. Hyrule with his bunny apple slices, sneaky snark, and frustrated silence. Legend with his hostile glares, and rare laugh, and begging Sky to run lest he share their terrible fate. Both of them trying so hard to protect each other in an impossible situation. They'll die out there, like dogs run to death.
The portal fuzzes just a little, colours paling.
Warriors is not sure he's a good person. He thinks, perhaps, he is as he was made and moulded by those who had use for him. As he was taught by example. He's not sure he likes the man that soldier boy became. But he tries, and maybe someday he'll be better. It is comforting to think —to hope— that right at the core of him, he could be the same as the others.
Unarmed and alone he steps into the portal, right as it's flicking out.
When only the saddest wettest starving feral cats will do.
For the Triforce fic fight 2026 fic for @cloudyskies48
Ancillary - Chapter 1
"I need a potion." Blunt. Up close it's clear he's in a bad way — too skinny, all wiry strength and grit. Grimy, still bloody from the fight and with everything on him in need of repair. This is more than poverty —indeed his weapons are something special, far better than some wandering teen should have— this is being relentlessly in motion. Probably older than he first thought, seventeen or eighteen or so.
"Is your friend hurt?"
"I don't have any rupees, what do you want for one?" The boy glares at him, sunken cheeks and sharp features and striking violet eyes. A scar on his cheek, his brow, his jaw, his neck — little things, not like Wild's, but signs of blades and misadventure none the less.
Wars lifts a hand to brush at the pink lock of hair by his face, testing his reaction; if he'll freeze, flee, or lash out. He is aware this is —as they say— a dick move, but he does it anyway.
The young man doesn't move, he is so angry but he doesn't make to run or slap away the touch.