LU Fics

You had been traveling with the boys for a few weeks now. You spent almost all day walking and occasionally climbing a tree to hide in whenever your group got attacked by monsters. Your biggest complaint, however, was the annoying language barrier that resulted in confusing games of charades anytime the boys wanted to tell you something, or vice versa.

Thankfully, the boys were all absolute sweethearts. They’d tried to teach you their names but your already overwhelmed brain just couldn’t comprehend the foreign syllables. So instead, you came up with your own little nicknames for them.

First was Eyeball, the apparent team leader and the eldest, and he was called that because, well, he was missing an eye. From what you could gather, the boys couldn’t agree on how he lost it.

Then there was Sleepy, who honestly seemed to be the best swordsman of the group, but he could fall asleep anywhere (making him a popular target for the group’s shenanigans).

Doc was by far the smallest of the group, and his maturity was the only indication that he wasn’t a child. His colorful tunic seemed to be his best attempt at becoming a rainbow, and, honestly, you respected it.

The actual youngest of the batch was Happy, since he seemed to be the most playful and energetic. The cook was Dopey because, much to Doc’s chagrin, he seemed to have no problem with eating things off the ground.

The one you’d started calling Bashful was misleadingly confident and playful- until he started talking to you. Then he became this adorable little guy stuttering over his words and motions. Bashful could almost always be seen with Grumpy, the only one who seemed to be annoyed with your inability to fight or communicate. But he was also determined to learn your language, so he couldn’t be that bad of a guy. Grumpy and Bashful frequently pranked the other members of the group, which delighted Happy and Dopey. Their most common victim was Sneezy, who earned that unfortunate nickname after Grumpy and Bashful filled his scarf with pepper, causing him to sneeze non-stop all day.

Finally, there was Wolf. Originally you’d started calling him that because of the wolf pelt on his back, but after you’d witnessed him turning into a wolf (an incident that left you believing your brain had finally quit), the name only fitted more.

You were forced out of your thoughts when you suddenly slammed into someone’s back, fire-like pain spreading through your face. Suddenly you were face to face with Sleepy, who was fawning over you, voice rising in pitch with what must’ve been an apology. Something wet trickled down your face, and you touched it delicately and drew your hand back to look. To your shock and Sleepy’s horror, your fingers were dripping red. You’d broken your nose on the hilt of Sleepy’s sword.

“*’’\+\+}%.>%}^¥{!=+#*+!!”

Before you knew it, you were seated roughly on a rock and a red potion poured down your throat by Bashful, with Sleepy fluttering around you and Grumpy rolling his eyes in the corner.

Red potions, you’d quickly discovered, could heal most injuries quickly, but took the contents of your stomach as payment, leaving you starving. For some reason, this effect only seemed to apply to you, meaning you were always left to starve after drinking one since you had no way to tell them of the effect, and you didn’t want to seem greedy for asking for more food than everyone else.

Luckily for you, there was an orange tree right by your rock.

You went over to the tree eagerly, ready to eat and hopefully gather more for the boys as a thank you and an apology to poor Sleepy, who was having to wash your blood out of his cape. It was then you came to the disappointing realization that all of the oranges hung high over your head, and that the branches you could reach were too small to support your weight. But you’re stubborn. You stand on the tree’s roots and your tip toes and reach up in sheer determination when suddenly you’re lifted into the air.

You squeak in undignified surprise and look down to find yourself on Wolf’s shoulders, with him grinning up at you and easily supporting your weight.

Someone laughs as you stare down at him.

“*>+#%+%,” he tells you.

You blink in confusion before realizing with a start that he was helping you reach the oranges. You stuff as many as you can into your pockets and grab some in your hands before looking down at Wolf and nodding to signal you were done.

His grin widens and you try not to think about his hands on your legs or his face between your thighs as he sets you down, and you offer him an orange. The second he takes it you rush over to Dopey to give him the rest of the oranges except one for yourself.

Dopey takes them with a delighted grin, and you hurry off to a corner to eat your orange and try to keep your imagination in check.

“What on Earth are you doing?”

Wind froze, hands on his face. “. . . Nothing.”

Time raised an eyebrow and sat down on a log in front of him. “Let me see,” he said softly.

The sailor lowered his hands slowly, revealing skin angry and red from scratching and decorated with tiny blonde hairs. “It’s itchy,” he muttered, embarrassed.

Time chuckled. “Want help?”

“. . . yeah.”

“Alright,” Time stood, cracking his back. “Come on.”

Wind blinked, standing to follow Time. He was about to ask where they were going when he saw the river coming into view; the old man settling on the sand.

“Here,” Time held up a small razor. “Watch me.”

Wind nodded, watching as Time splashed some water onto his face, waited a few seconds for the water to settle, and then gently dragged the razor across his face, using the still water as a mirror.

“Alright,” Time announced, washing the razor in the water and then handing it to Wind. “Your turn.”

Wind took the razor hesitantly, then slowly copied Time, watching the old man out of the corner of his eye for approval.

“Good?” Wind asked, looking at Time as he rubbed his now-smooth face.

“Good,” Time smiled, ruffling Wind’s hair, grin widening when Wind protested with a sharp “Hey!”

Time’s laugh settled into a soft smile as Wind spoke softly.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it. First shave’s always weird. I remember when I was around your age. It took me forever to figure it out.”

Wind nodded slowly. “Yeah, I. . . I can’t imagine what that must’ve been like. Figuring stuff out all on your own.”

Time’s head tilted in consideration. “It was hard,” he agreed. “But you don’t have to go through that. You have a whole group of us to ask if you have questions. And you can always talk to me, okay?”