Link ("yeet it or eat it") (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
skyglider) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dreamcrystals2024-04-05 02:34 pm
skyglider) wrote in dreamcrystals2024-04-05 02:34 pm
Entry tags:
004 ⚘ dream recording
Sender: Link
To: everyone
Subject: passive dream recording
Warnings: TOTK spoilers
Home.
This is the place where your mind goes, inevitably, as you think of that one word, so small—four letters—and yet so encompassing. It nestles warmly in your chest like a hearty broth, and you think—yes, you could make a life like this. Here, with your arms solidly around her, your face buried in the golden curls of her hair, in the house—the home—you have both made, fortified by the losses you have overcome together.
You listen to her breath, slow and even, clearly sleeping soundly in your arms, and it's dizzying, the way you feel about it. About her. About all of this. There is another word for it, too, something warm and comfortable and terrifying all at once. That small, four-letter word that means you're forever bound, dedicated, that the mark she has left on you is one of permanence.
You have said the word before, but not like this, whispered into her shoulder like a prayer.
"Forever" is the part that sticks with you, in the thin moonlight filtering through the window. It means forever. Somehow that thought is calming, as you close your eyes.
—when you open them again, the word forever feels like a death sentence. It is the blade on the guillotine shining in the morning light. It is the last word uttered before the world dies. It is a weight heavy on your heart, and you think, if you could just protect her from this, if only you could hold her like this through the end of the world—
Your eyes adjust. Something has changed; the light of morning is too bright, the wind on your face is too strong—
Wind.
It's as if your heart tumbles out of your chest and shatters on the ground below, miles and miles below, and all at once, you realize where you are. The house in Hateno is little more than an inkblot on a page, so far down from where you sit.
The enormous dragon upon whose back you sit doesn't seem to care that you're there—or perhaps she doesn't notice. You are so small. The feeling that wells within you, on the other hand, is so big, so entirely all-encompassing, that there are no words or thoughts that could possibly contain it all. This hollow feeling within you, this devastating use of the word forever, it rocks you to your very core, and maybe if you weren't so wrung-out and reeling from the shock of it, you would have a tear left to shed. A shred of misery to spare for this moment.
You have none left. They've all been spent.
That same four-letter feeling twists in your chest, even now, and you wonder if it will hurt forever, if the word love will forever be synonymous with the heartache of loss. Because you still do, of course—you love her like this even as you mourn the loss of her, the version of her that still knew you and, you like to think, loved you too.
Cursing the star-crossed inevitability of fate, you bury your face in her hair once more, as she snakes mercilessly across the sky.
[fanart inspo for this post]
---
[action] for those who will
[Link has been asleep for one full month, and the first thing he feels when he finally wakes is the sting of unshed tears.
He knows before he fully wakes that his private thoughts and late-night misery have been broadcast. Something about the vividness of the dream, about the hollow feeling left in his chest when it's finished… It's hard to say, but he feels, bitterly, the stinging shame of exposure—not just for himself, but for Zelda, as well.
It's still dark; on shaky legs, he slips out of the treehouse and onto the roof, using the glider to take him as far from home as it can in one go. He finds himself at the plaza, sitting at the edge of the fountain, idly dropping rocks into its still surface and watching the ripples pulse outward from the point of impact.]
To: everyone
Subject: passive dream recording
Warnings: TOTK spoilers
Home.
This is the place where your mind goes, inevitably, as you think of that one word, so small—four letters—and yet so encompassing. It nestles warmly in your chest like a hearty broth, and you think—yes, you could make a life like this. Here, with your arms solidly around her, your face buried in the golden curls of her hair, in the house—the home—you have both made, fortified by the losses you have overcome together.
You listen to her breath, slow and even, clearly sleeping soundly in your arms, and it's dizzying, the way you feel about it. About her. About all of this. There is another word for it, too, something warm and comfortable and terrifying all at once. That small, four-letter word that means you're forever bound, dedicated, that the mark she has left on you is one of permanence.
You have said the word before, but not like this, whispered into her shoulder like a prayer.
"Forever" is the part that sticks with you, in the thin moonlight filtering through the window. It means forever. Somehow that thought is calming, as you close your eyes.
—when you open them again, the word forever feels like a death sentence. It is the blade on the guillotine shining in the morning light. It is the last word uttered before the world dies. It is a weight heavy on your heart, and you think, if you could just protect her from this, if only you could hold her like this through the end of the world—
Your eyes adjust. Something has changed; the light of morning is too bright, the wind on your face is too strong—
Wind.
It's as if your heart tumbles out of your chest and shatters on the ground below, miles and miles below, and all at once, you realize where you are. The house in Hateno is little more than an inkblot on a page, so far down from where you sit.
The enormous dragon upon whose back you sit doesn't seem to care that you're there—or perhaps she doesn't notice. You are so small. The feeling that wells within you, on the other hand, is so big, so entirely all-encompassing, that there are no words or thoughts that could possibly contain it all. This hollow feeling within you, this devastating use of the word forever, it rocks you to your very core, and maybe if you weren't so wrung-out and reeling from the shock of it, you would have a tear left to shed. A shred of misery to spare for this moment.
You have none left. They've all been spent.
That same four-letter feeling twists in your chest, even now, and you wonder if it will hurt forever, if the word love will forever be synonymous with the heartache of loss. Because you still do, of course—you love her like this even as you mourn the loss of her, the version of her that still knew you and, you like to think, loved you too.
Cursing the star-crossed inevitability of fate, you bury your face in her hair once more, as she snakes mercilessly across the sky.
[fanart inspo for this post]
---
[action] for those who will
[Link has been asleep for one full month, and the first thing he feels when he finally wakes is the sting of unshed tears.
He knows before he fully wakes that his private thoughts and late-night misery have been broadcast. Something about the vividness of the dream, about the hollow feeling left in his chest when it's finished… It's hard to say, but he feels, bitterly, the stinging shame of exposure—not just for himself, but for Zelda, as well.
It's still dark; on shaky legs, he slips out of the treehouse and onto the roof, using the glider to take him as far from home as it can in one go. He finds himself at the plaza, sitting at the edge of the fountain, idly dropping rocks into its still surface and watching the ripples pulse outward from the point of impact.]
no subject
It's thanks to Zelda, in part, that he was able to move past that.
The cycle becomes a reality. An opportunity; a means by which to know the incredible woman that Zelda has become. Strong, brave, kind -- the smartest person he has ever known. The one person in the world --in any world, he must acknowledge-- that he would lay down everything for. That he would live for.
A heavy weight settles on his heart, the understanding stoked like a small fire growing larger, becoming more real with each passing breath and moment. Her warmth seeps into him where their bodies meet and he knows, he understands, that the very thing he asked of her so many months ago is no longer enough. That he must let go in order to move forward. ...that he must move forward.]
I have, [is his response, whispered softly against her hair, but spoken with a sense of weight and finality that belies more -- belies the decision solidifying in his mind.
It's not a sudden decision so much as an inevitability, and while she may guess at what that decision is from his tone, he still owes it to her to speak it out loud.]
Zelda...
[It is just so very hard to know how to begin.]
no subject
But this time, it makes her stomach sour, settling in her gut like a stone. ]
What is it?
[ Her words come out small and hesitant, in a voice that says she knows that he's about to tell her something she does not want to hear.
(He is the one person in the world, in any world, that she would lay down everything for. That she would die for.
But it's easy to die for someone. It's so much harder to live for them after they're gone.) ]