#the sheikah writes

[secretlysheikah]

Hello again, I think now is time.

Ready or not, here it comes.

Welcome back to hell.

If you wish to know what the hell is going on how about you start here:

[callmehiri]

Wilting Violets

By @secretlysheikah

Sequel to Raid

Sheikah stood outside the infirmary door. The little flowers she held in her hand steadily wilting as she shifted from foot to foot. She couldn’t help the fear that settled around her. The infirmary always left her feeling a deep dark and cold fear. She blamed the doctor, Miller, with his piss poor bedside manner. She shook her head, rolled her shoulders and sighed. This couldn’t be avoided any longer, she refused. She swept her arm out and pushed the doors open and looked around the near silent room.

Nurses and other soldiers moved around the beds as they worked or visited their friends that had gotten hurt in the monster raid. She could see Ford sleeping on one of those beds near the window. He looked rough with his bruised cheek and arm swathed in bandages. However her eyes snapped to the curtain that blocked off one of the beds.

She looked around furtively and scampered over to it before anyone saw and slipped into the little makeshift room. Somehow, the little space still smelled metallic like blood, even though there wasn’t a speck of red to be seen. It made her hand tighten around the flowers and they wilted more as she smothered them. Colin laid still on the bed, his normally warm olive skin pallid and drawn. Bandages were wrapped around his head and over his left shoulder and chest. His right arm was splinted, left to mend as the strong healing elixirs worked their magic. Her nose wrinkled at the bottles that sat on the little side table. Miller didn’t even bother to clean up his mess. Though she supposed it worked on her favor this time. She slipped closer to the bed, poured water into a bottle from the jug and dumped the flowers in. It was a half assed bouquet that definitely looked better when they were sat in her room but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Colin? Can you hear me?” Sheikah whispered and looked over at him. Her eyes welled with tears and she worried at the hem of her cloak before gently touching his hand. She could have wept at the warmth that laid under his skin. The room disappeared around her as her lip wobbled and she struggled not to cry. She had made it in time, she’d done it, and he and Ford were okay. Most of the men didn’t even look at her like a monster yet either but that was a bridge to burn later. For now she pulled back and drew a hand down her face as she breathed. Things were okay, it was fine, fine, fine. Another breath and she looked back at Colin’s face only to find him looking at the flowers on his table. His eyes were wide, almost full of a drugged wonder that would have been funny if he hadn’t almost died not an hour ago.

“Colin, hey, are you there?” Sheikah asked, her voice thready as she carefully sat on the edge of his bed and watched him. His eyes were unfocused, pupils the size of saucers as he dragged his gaze to her. She could deny that he looked rough but at least the bruises that had feathered across the side of his head were starting to lighten.

“Mouse, hello love,” he slurred, making her flush hard and look around as if Miller was going to burst in and yell at her. She whipped her head back to him as he snickered at her before motioning to him to shut up the best she could.

“Stop, hush, I’m not your love,” she whispered back at him and bit back a groan as Colin’s face continued to brighten and his lips quirked into a smile.

“That's… not what flowers mean~” he teased and motioned to said half crushed flowers next to his bed. She pursed her lips, eyes hard as she watched him. She had the sneaking suspicion that he wasn’t as out of it as she hoped. No, it seemed to her that he recognized where the flowers had been first and who had left them.

“Just admit it Mouse, you loooooove me,” he said, drawing out the word ‘love’ like a child’s teasing. He sounded so pleased with himself, it was both funny and annoying. Worst of all it made her want to cry.

“I should kill you,” she hissed, voice harsh as she swallowed down a sob “you fucking moron, what were you doing out there?” She asked and swiped at her eyes. The amusement faded as Colin pursed his lips in return and shrugged. Or he tried to anyway, though he stopped the motion almost as soon as he started it.

“Doing my job, I’m sure you understand,” he mumbled and dropped his head back as if it was full of lead. Sheikah let out a shuddering breath and reached out for his hand. She was sure he didn’t know the terror that filled her soul at those words. Hell, she wished there was a way for her to tell him, to make him understand. She held his hand between hers and rested her forehead on them. Colin’s eyes weighed heavy on her but she didn’t dare look up. Not even when Colin messily played with her hair. Her lip wobbled again and she forced herself to breath as lifted her face just enough to see him.

“You can’t do this to me Colin,” she said finally, and squeezed his hand “you can’t just…” she started and Colin hummed thoughtfully, his eyes blinking slowly. She shook her head, leaning her cheek against his hand, unable to get the word out. Instead she let the warmth of his hand warm her skin. The unspoken words felt hot in her throat and she swallowed hard.

“Mouse, does this mean you care about me?” He asked, his tone making it seem like a joke but it didn’t quite land. Goddesses above he truly was stupid, stupid and made stupider with the weight of healing elixirs on his blood, She looked at his eyes then, considered the distance in them as she scooted closer. Her cheeks flushed and she gently kissed him, a slight brush of lips against his before she quickly pulled away.

“Of course I do,” she said softly and huffed a broken laugh as Colin’s ears flapped. They never flapped. She sincerely hoped that meant he was still drugged enough to not remember this, remember her words and the desperate cling to his hand. She could live in this moment, replay it and feel that closeness in her mind, probably should, It was for the better.

“What are you doing in here? No guests! The General needs to rest,” Miller’s voice snapped, making Sheikah jump and get off the bed before hiding their joined hands. Miller’s eyes scanned her up and down, his eyes flinty and angry. She sincerely hoped the blush was gone from her face as her eyes flicked down to the floor.

“Sheikah. I was wondering where you were. Come here and let me fix you up” he demanded and felt her heart stop as a lump formed in her throat. Her fingers trembled as she set Colin’s hand down only for him to squeeze them.

“Miller,” Colin started, making to sit up even as Sheikah turned to look at him. She pressed her lips tight and offered her best smile before pressing him to the bed. It wasn’t hard and he looked about ready to pass out just from the act of sitting up alone. Colin groaned as he flopped back onto the mattress, his breathing hard as he struggled to focus on the cantankerous doctor with his flashing glasses.

“I’m fine, I don’t need your assistance,” she said to Miller, her tone cold and walked past the medic as steadily as she could. Miller however reached out and snagged her elbow making her grit her teeth as he yanked her arm up and back. She struggled to not fall over as he studied the flecks of blood on her shirt before she managed to wrenched her arm away. The stitches she had managed to give herself must have popped because warmth coated the spot on her ribs.

“You’re bleeding. But if you don’t want me stitching you up, you’ll have an elixir,” he said gruffly and half dragged her to the edge of the partition “I have new mixes ready for you to try and I’ll be interested to see how they work on you.” Miller said, his hand close to brushing her wrist as he dragged her away. Sheikah gave Colin one last look, her desperate mind imagining his jaw clench as he watched her being led away. Maybe… maybe it was a good thing if he remembered something.

[secretlysheikah]

Oh yeah, gonna whump my OCs I think. Sorry Hiri and Colin. You guys are my favorite chew toys right now, whomp whomp.

WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPTS LIST

Welcome to Whumptober 2024 — Seventh Time's a Charm!

Please make sure to read the Event Info and FAQ below carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

This year's playlist can be found here.

The 'Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt' post can be found here.

And our 'Resources for Writing Sensitive Topics' post is here.

We’re very excited to see the community come together for another year of Whumptober! Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(Text versions of the prompts, as well as event information, rules and FAQ are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2024 Prompt List

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES

Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE

Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

No. 5: SUNBURN

Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES

Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION

Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)

No. 9: OBSESSION

Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.” (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible)

No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD

Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE

Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.” (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)

No. 12: STARVATION

Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."

No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY

Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)

No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD

Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted” (tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn)

No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA

Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

No. 16: NECROSIS

Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO

Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."

No. 18: REVENGE

Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes)

No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL

Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST

Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

No. 21: BODY HORROR

Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.” (Apparat feat. Soap & Skin, Goodbye)

No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES

Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."

No. 23: FORCED CHOICE

Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."

No. 24: RADIATION POISONING

Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)

No. 25: SURGERY

Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."

No. 26: NIGHTMARES

Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” (Poe, Haunted)

No. 27: VOICELESS

Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

No. 28: DENIAL

CCTV | Exposure | "They caught me red handed."

No. 29: FATIGUE

Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"

No. 30: RECOVERY

Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?"

No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP

Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well." (Elliot Lee, Alive, Not Well.)

Alternatives List:

Body Swap

Communication Barrier

Finding Old Messages

Forgotten

Friendly Fire

Motion Sickness

No-Holds-Barred Beatdown

Regret

Secrets Revealed

Shivering

Survivor's Guilt

Time Loop

Used As Bait

Venom

Vermin

Event Info & Rules

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be a reference to an ‘old flame’ - an old relationship. It’s truly down to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks. There is also a list of 15 alternative prompts that can be subbed in for any day, again to give participants as much creative freedom as possible.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag it with:

#whumptober2024 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

#bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#altprompt …..(if you use an altprompt, tag the post with the number of the prompt you replace)

#fandom or #OC, …..(ironman, original content, oc, etc.)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself)

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.

Frequently Asked Questions

Please read this before you send an ask!

TIMELINE

July: Trope voting form released. Late August: Prompt list is released for at least four weeks of preparation time. Tropes cannot be posted earlier than August 25th because of Moderator obligations in real life. (But, you know, go ahead and start writing/drawing, and add the themes in later, if you want!) September: Do as much or as little on your works as you want. You can prepare everything in advance or let September go by with vibes and start working in October. It’s up to you. October 1st: Challenge begins! A storm of whump breaks upon us all! During this time, some posts will be reblogged to the whumptober archive blog. We open the yearly AO3 collection for posting (optional). November 1st: The challenge is officially over! Completionist form opens for those who want to be included in the hall-of-fame. Early November: We release completionist and participant badges, solicit feedback, and post a hall-of-fame list of completionists by the 10th.

PARTICIPATION AND COMPLETION

Q: What counts as participation? Create or continue at least one work inspired by one of this year’s prompts. Q: What counts as completion? Creating work(s) inspired by at least one prompt from each day (or alts), for a total of 31 unique prompts. Q: Do I need to create 31 works? No. You can, if you want. Or you can create one work that you add to every day with a new prompt. Or several works that combine prompts. You can also update an existing work by adding new material with the current prompts. Q: Do I need to post my works somewhere to be a completionist or a participant? No. Q: How do you know I actually completed the challenge? We’ll take your word for it! Q: Do I have to finish my work(s) to be a completionist? No, you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish them in October, but if you want it to count towards being a completionist, you must have completed 31 prompts by the end of the month. So for example, if you’re writing a long fic and you fit 31 different prompts into the writing you did in October, it’s okay if that fic isn’t finished by the time October ends, you’ll still be a completionist. Q: Is co-writing/illustrating allowed? Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you. Q: Is there a min/max limit on word count for written works? No. Q: Is there a min/max limit of quality for art? No. Q: Do I have to do something each day to be a completionist? No. You can skip days whenever you want, and as long as 31 daily prompts (or alts) are in your works done in October, you can be a completionist. For example, if you wrote a 1000-word ficlet that covers prompts in days 2, 3, and 17, you can check all three days off your list even though it’s only one work. Q: Is this challenge just for fics? No! Artworks, GIFsets, headcannons, rec lists, poetry, moodboards, or any other creative work is encouraged. Q: Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges? Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

PROMPTS

Q: How do the prompts work? There are FOUR prompts per day: a theme and three ideas. You can use one, two, three, or all four prompts for each day. If you don’t like any of the daily prompts, you can substitute one of the ALT prompts instead. Q: How strictly/literally should we interpret the prompts? As literally or as figuratively as you want. For example, if the theme is WATER, that could mean drowning, waterboarding, raining, swimming, take place underwater, be lost at sea, construct a metaphor about a character’s mood that changes like a flowing river, crying, or whatever else you can think of that fits that theme. Q: Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many? No limit and combine as many as you’d like. If you create a work that checks off multiple prompts, that work will count for a fill of multiple prompts. You need to address 31 different prompts to be an official completionist, but you don’t have to produce 31 separate works.

WORKS

Q: What’s whump? Hurting a character, whether that’s physically, emotionally, intellectually, psychologically, or any other way you can think of. Comfort afterwards is optional. Angst is emotional whump, so it counts. Q: How do I know if it’s whumpy enough? If your character is just mildly inconvenienced, it probably needs more whump. However, no participant has to prove whumpiness to the mods. Whatever you write is up to you. Q: What kind of characters can I create for? Anything. Generic “whumpee,” OC, PC, NPC, major characters, minor characters, or whatever you want. There are no limits. Q: Does it have to take place in a specific fandom? No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want. Q: Can I create AI-created works? We will not reblog or promote any works we know to be generative AI-created. Q: Is there anything we’re not allowed to write? As long as it contains whump and is based on our prompts, it’s fine. Please courtesy tag your works if you post them so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences. Q: What about sex, minor characters, and potentially disturbing content? You can create whatever works are legal in your country and post them accordingly. Please courtesy tag anything you think might be objectionable if you post to Tumblr so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences.

POSTING

Q: Where can I post my work? Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive. There is an AO3 archive for Whumptober 2024, as well as the parent collection for works completed outside of the event. Q: Can I start posting early? You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? We won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st. Q: Can I post late? Yes. For the sake of our hardworking Post Fairies, only a day’s themes will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive each day of October. But you can post whenever. Some of us are still working on and posting Whumptober fics from years ago. Q: Do I have to use your tags? Only on Tumblr and only if you want us to reblog your work on @whumptober-archive. Q: How do I have my works reblogged to the archive? Properly tagged posts will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive. If you want the official archive blog to reblog you, post on Tumblr and tag correctly (see this FAQ link for more info on tagging). Please note not all posts will be reblogged each day. Q: Can we @ you? For questions and comments, of course. We’ll be getting a flood of notifications, so if you really want us to see something send an ask. Q: Can I cross post on other blogs? Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable, as long as they allow cross-posting (to us). You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once. If you post some works under your main and others under an alt blog, that’s fine for completionist purposes. Q: Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms? Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there, which can be found here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the personal boundaries of any whumpers in your social circle (don’t out anyone as a participant who would prefer not to be outed).

Most importantly, have fun, create, and enjoy all the whump posted this October!

[somnimagus]

My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.

[id in alt text]

[sheikfangirl]

Post-BotW - When Paya met Zelda 😅🤷‍♀️

She's hot for them BOTH! Paya is the ultimate Zelink shipper representation lol.

Cheers!

[paleplumeria]

this was supposed to be about my au of the royal family during the first calamity 10,000 years ago, but i kinda got carried away...?

[secretlysheikah]

Hey~

Hey you~

Want another thing to read? I have another chapter for S. A. W. T. D. Lovingly written with @havenwitchworks about two Sheikah’s against the world and a hell of a lot of Yiga.

It’s super fun, full of drama, fighting, angst and

Mystery

If you’re curious, here’s the next chapter:

Want to start from the beginning? I have that here too! Get ready to delve into the mysterious world of the Sheikah clan, deal with strange magics and save some missing people.

[callmehiri]

Sucker Punch

Written by @secretlysheikah

Sweat made her shirt stick to her skin as she breathed hard. Her knuckles hurt even with the wrappings. She was definitely going to be stiff tomorrow as well as she pushed her hair back from her sweaty face.

“I think just… popping their arms out of socket is easier,” Hiri panted as Colin drank from his cup of water. He looked over at her and snorted before rolling his eyes. He was drenched in sweat too, it made his shirt cling to his muscles and increased the amount of house keeping that had to be done in the training room if the extra foot traffic from the maids meant anything.

“This is why people don’t want to brawl with you, you scare them,” he chided breathlessly and set his cup down. Hiri sniffed and waved the concern away before getting her own cup of water.

“That’s the point, I’m glad it works for everyone except smelly man,” she grumbled, making Colin sigh as he fixed his hair back into a neat bun on his head.

“I know, I’m working on the Crowmen thing I promise,” he said and cast a glance as Hiri as she drank one cup of water then another. She could feel heat rising up her neck that had nothing to do with their boxing match as his eyes lingered. She needed to get a grip.

“Did he bother you again? Is that why you wanted to learn boxing so badly?” He asked and earned a huff from the grumpy Sheikah. In reality she found out about the brawling pit some of the men had dug in the woods near the outpost. She had been excited but no one wanted to fight with her for fear of getting their limbs ripped out of their sockets. It was an effective fighting strategy but apparently not great for a friendly boxing match.

“He made some comments, I thought you had him removed,” she said and pursed her lips as Colin scowled in return.

“His father greased some palms and now he’s my problem again. This is the second time he’s been put back here and I’m hoping the third time will be the last,” he growled as he motioned for Hiri to come back to the ring. She hummed and followed along, her muscles aching as she made herself stretch.

“I can make his life Hell if you want. I can be spooky as well as threatening,” she offered and put her hands up. Colin chuckled and followed suit, offering quick jabs that forced her to block.

“Only if you want, I’m sure you’ll see him at that pit though,” he said making Hiri start and caught a fist to her ribs. She yelped and bent over her side as she backed up. Colin winced and came over his hands raised in surrender.

“Shit, are you okay? I’m sorry,” he said though she was barely paying attention as she stared at him.

“How do you know about the fighting pit?” She gasped and to her surprise got a snort. Colin patted her back and gave her a knowing smile.

“People showing up with more bruises, their hands red and knuckles swollen? Split lips and black eyes weren’t contagious last I heard. Not to mention Ford told me. He has his money on Corkie but I’m more worried about Valentine he has a mean left cross,” Colin said and grinned at her stunned face.

“Look, I can’t go because if I’m seen there I’m expected to shut it down. It makes the men happy and I want that to go as long as they aren’t killing one another,” he shrugged “you however definitely need to learn to bare knuckle brawl, because I bet you could win. But also serious injury will be reported and I’ll have to,” he started and Hiri nodded slowly.

“Shut it down?” She ventured and Colin grinned before giving her a wink and patted her back.

“You catch on fast. You’re small so we need to focus on speed and fast jabs. I’d aim for the ribs rather than the face considering well…” he said and pinched his fingers together to show just how short she was. Hiri’s eyes flashed and she twisted jamming her fist into his gut, hard. Colin gasped, wheezed and staggered away as she rose and followed after him.

“I’m going to punch your lights out,” she hissed and glowered at the wheezing laugh he gave her before squaring up again.

“That’s the spirit, keep telling yourself that and maybe you’ll win,” he teased and went back to trading blows.

[secretlysheikah]

Oooooo I’m not sure I’m apart of the writeblr side of tumblr but I am a writer! I write fanfic for linked universe (legend of Zelda) and I also starting. Writing a story with my friend @havenwitchworks ! Also based out of legend of Zelda but is mostly an original story we’re working with the Sheikah people.

I do tend to post Sheikah Brainrot and we are expanding our own lore for the Sheikah, lore, religious practices and other general world building ideas!

If other writers see this maybe leave a blurb about what you write so others can see if they want to follow you and give feedback!

i want to follow some writeblr blogs that don't mind me posting inspo posts and aesthetic posts. mostly cause i love interacting with other writeblr blogs and i hate using a sideblog (like every time i try i forget i have one) and i prefer using my main blog for my writeblr posts and writing excerpts.

i have a lot of random original work in progresses. most are like, fantasy or sci-fi mixed with paranormal and romance.

i tend to follow back those who follow me. and i am a huge fan of leaving feedback of the stuff i read because i think it's fun.

but yeah! i was on another blog under a sideblog but i didn't keep up with it so if my work seems familiar, that's why. but yeah, hello!!!

[skyward-floored]

Imagine if at some point after finding out about his true heritage HDW Wars gets sick but with every sneeze he accidentally sneezes fire and no one can figure out how to stop it.

So I don't know if I want this to be how Zelda actually finds out but I couldn't resist writing this—

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"No no, seriously, don't go in there!" Mask says with an increasing amount of panic, moving to block Zelda's path to Link's tent. "He's like, uh, he's really sick! Like, like throwing up and coughing and sneezing on everything, it's super gross! You don't want to go in there!"

Zelda raises an eyebrow.

“Mask, I'm more then well-aquainted with 'super gross sickness', as you put it. It’ll take more then that to stop me from visiting Link.”

“But... you might get sick!” Mask quickly argues, and Zelda considers for a moment. Then she continues forward.

“That’s true. But I doubt five minutes to wish Link well and check up on him will hurt anything."

"W-well, he," Mask splutters as Zelda strides past, "he, he doesn't want to see you!"

"Oh, is that so?" Zelda asks a tad mischeviously. "Funny, a minute ago you said Proxi was busy and that Link was so sick he could barely speak. How is it that you know what he wants?"

"Uh... that was before he couldn't speak," Mask quickly adds, but Zelda merely strides around him, nearly to the entrance of Link's tent. "Wait wait wait!"

Zelda pauses with her hand on the flap, looking down at Mask, who's still trying to block her while sporting a very odd expression on his face.

"...Is anything I say going to keep you out?" he asks, sounding like he already knows the answer.

"I'm afraid not."

Mask grimaces.

"Well... alright. If he asks, tell him I tried, and don't say I didn't warn you," he mutters, and steps aside. "You might wanna watch your hair."

Zelda raises an eyebrow, but Mask doesn't elaborate, and she enters the tent.

The first thing she notices is the smell of smoke in the air, just thick enough to be noticeable upon entering. The small lantern lit on the table doesn’t seem big enough to make the tent smell as smoky as it does, but nothing else seems to be on fire, and her attention is quickly drawn to the cot in the corner.

Link looks miserable, curled up under a thin blanket, dressed in only his undertunic and pants, and shivering hard enough that Zelda can see it from where she stands. Tune is sitting next to him with a bucket at his feet, and the sailor looks just as worried as she feels.

Tune looks up as she walks in, startles, then turns a glare on Mask.

"Mask, you—"

"I know, I know. Look she has to find out eventually, why not now?" Mask huffs, crossing his arms.

"He didn't want her to find out like this, he wanted to actually tell her," Tune hisses, and Mask has the decency to look a bit guilty.

"Have me find out what, exactly?" Zelda interrupts, and Tune and Mask both look at her, strange expressions on their faces. Neither of them gets a chance to speak though, as Link suddenly groans, and screws his face up.

“...Uh oh.”

"Hit the deck!" Mask yelps, and Zelda has just enough time to wonder what in the name of the goddesses is going on before Link lets out a loud sneezing cough.

Which sends a small burst of flame straight across the tent.

Zelda jumps back in surprise, and Tune quickly grabs the bucket at his feet and splashes water on the part of her skirts that ended up catching the edge of Link’s flames.

Smoke drifts from Zelda's now-doused skirt, and Link groans, Tune gently patting him on the head.

Zelda stares.

“How on earth..?” she breathes, and Tune and Mask look up at her, then at each other. “Is he all right? Is this a curse? How is it that he’s breathing fire?”

“Sneezing fire, technically,” Mask corrects, and Tune elbows him.

“Look, it’s... it's a little hard to explain,” Tune says carefully, and Zelda crosses her arms, suspicions suddenly raised.

“Was this one of you two’s faults?”

“No! Of course not! Look, it’s just...” Tune says, obviously struggling, and Mask sighs and gestures to Link.

“Turns out his dad is Volga,” he says simply.

Zelda blinks.

“Link’s... father. Is Volga. The dragon knight.”

Mask and Tune nod.

“That’s the one,” Mask says.

A lot of odd things that’ve happened in the past month suddenly add up in Zelda's head, strange looks, awkward avoidances, the uncertain glint that sometimes appears in Link's eyes. Zelda had assumed most of that was because of her hiding Sheik's identity (and she does still feel guilty about that), but Volga being Link's father...

Zelda’s head spins, but she doesn’t have time to ask further questions, as Link drags his eyes open with a groan.

“Captain?” Tune asks, and Link looks at him, face haggard with exhaustion. His gaze drifts around the tent, pausing on Mask for a moment, then drifting past him and settling on Zelda. Link stares at her, startles, then pushes himself upward, raising a hand in a shaky salute before Mask shoves him back down.

“Your Highness,” he croaks, and Zelda winces at how painful his voice sounds.

“At ease Link, you don’t need to treat me like that,” she assures, almost wishing she was still in disguise as Sheik. Link was never so concerned with protocol around her then. “Especially not while you’re sick.”

“‘S just a cough,” he rasps, and Tune sighs.

“Yeah, a cough that’s making you sneeze fire. Not exactly ‘just’ a cough.”

Link hums in a croaky way, then he startles as he realizes just what Tune has said, and looks at Zelda. Blue eyes meet blue, and Zelda can practically see the thoughts running rampant through Link's head.

"Y-your Highness, I'm—"

"Link," Zelda interrupts, her voice gentle. "Tune and Mask already told me. You don't need to hide it."

She sees him swallow, and Tune pushes his head back down to his pillow, a little frown appearing on his face when Link barely resists.

"So you... know," Link whispers, closing his eyes with a small cough. The action sends some smoke puffing from his lips. "My father's... Volga."

"Yes," Zelda replies, the shock beginning to fade, but still present.

There's always been something a little different about Link, something that set him apart from the other soldiers. Zelda had always thought it was more due to being the Hero, or the piece of Triforce he held, not... being related to a dragon.

She brushes her thoughts aside. "I apologize. Mask did his best to keep me out."

"She's too stubborn," Mask huffs, crossing his arms.

Tune's face hitches up in a smile. "Zeldas always are."

Link looks slightly more at ease, but still uncertain, and his eyes drag open again, circles dark beneath them.

"Princess," he begins in a rasp, "I know... it isn't much, but I promise you I am loyal to the crown. Volga is still my enemy. I wasn't a... aware of his relation to me until very... recently."

"Link, I didn't come in here to question your loyalties," Zelda says, pulling a chair over and sitting by his bed. "And I'm not in the practice of judging others on the actions of their parents. I heard you were ill, and came to see how you were doing."

Link blinks at her, and Zelda reaches a cautious hand out to feel his forehead, wincing at the heat radiating off of it.

"You have quite the fever," she says as she looks over at Tune, and he nods, eyebrows pinching together in worry.

"I know. We're not really sure what to do for him. We were just treating it normally, but then he started the fire thing..." he trails off, and scratches the back of his neck.

"Impa's getting a book that has some information on dragons in it though, she's hoping it'll help," Mask adds, and Zelda hums, pulling her hand back from Link’s forehead. She’d wondered where Impa had gone off to.

"I take it she's aware of this information too then?"

Something flickers in Tune's gaze. "She is."

Link screws his face up again, and Zelda dodges the flames that come out when he sneezes this time, Mask splashing some water on the corner of the tent the flames try to lick at.

“Uh... I’ll get more water,” he says as he looks down at the empty bucket, and slips out of the tent. Zelda is left alone with Tune and Link, and Tune sighs, brushing some of Link’s hair out of his face.

Zelda watches them in silence for a moment, Link’s raspy breathing the only sound in the tent.

“I hate to pry, especially while you’re sick, Link, but... when did you learn of your father?” Zelda finally asks, voice soft. “You said it was recently. Did Volga tell you?”

“No. It was before Cia split time,” he whispers. “That day she ended up... talking to me alone. She told me about Volga.”

Anger on Link’s behalf rises up in Zelda as he coughs again, from ending up alone with their enemy, from hearing such sensitive information from Cia of all people, from becoming such a major player in this war at all... but she tampers it down, and meets his eyes, dull with sickness.

“I’m sorry,” Zelda says quietly.

Link lets out a raspy sigh, and closes his eyes again. “I’ve had some time to... come to terms with it.”

He lets out another abrupt sneeze, flames shooting across the tent, and another several accompany it, the fire brighter each time. Zelda leaps to her feet, but before the flames can cause any damage, Tune whips out the wind waker and blows them all out.

The sneezes seems to have taken what’s left of Link’s strength, and he curls up again, looking exhausted as Tune lets out a sigh of relief. The younger hero pulls the blanket over Link’s shoulders as he tucks the wind waker back in his pocket, and then he smiles a little apologetically at Zelda.

“I think he could use some more rest,” he says, and Zelda nods, dusting some ashes off her skirts. She’s likely going to smell of smoke for a while.

“Of course. I need to be on my way anyway,” she sighs, not looking forward to going back to her maps and strategies.

Zelda looks down at Link, eyes closed in exhaustion, shoulders faintly shivering, the smell of smoke and sickness about him, and she swallows.

“I hope you feel better soon, Link.”

“Thank you your highness,” Link whispers in response, and sighs, seeming to fall asleep moments later.

“...he’s quite sick, isn’t he?” Zelda says once she’s sure he’s asleep.

“He could be worse, but... yeah,” Tune says quietly, then smiles at her. “But Impa will be back later, and I bet she’ll have some information for us. Link’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure he will. He’s terribly resilient,” Zelda says with a small smile of her own. “Thank you for looking after him.”

Tune shrugs. “Somebody’s gotta stop him from setting the whole camp on fire.”

Zelda can’t help her chuckle at that, and Tune lets out a laugh of his own as he walks her out, pausing at the tent flap.

“Princess... would you keep all of this to yourself?” Tune asks her, a strange expression flitting across his face. “Link’s still struggling with it, and if the rest of the army knew...”

“I won’t say a word,” Zelda promises, and Tune relaxes a hair. “Only to Impa, or you and Mask.”

“Thank you,” Tune says gratefully.

Zelda takes his hand and gives it a squeeze. “You’re welcome, Tune. I’ll try and come back once Impa returns, maybe we can all discuss this together.”

Tune’s eyes do something funny again at the mention of Impa. “Maybe. See you, Zelda.”

Zelda says goodbye in return, and Tune slips back inside the tent, a puff of ash accompanying him.

She stands there for a few moments longer, thinking about Link and Volga, and Impa a little as well. She’s curious about what this all means for Link, being part dragon (whole dragon?), and what he’s doubtlessly been going through since he found out.

She wonders how Impa found out about all of this as well. Did Link tell her? Or Tune perhaps? Was Link concerned about what him being related to their enemy would mean? And how long has Impa known of the identity of Link’s father?

Zelda shakes her head, scattering her thoughts, and begins the walk back to her tent.

“So many questions,” she sighs to herself, and rubs some more ashes from her skirts.

As if this war weren’t already complicated enough.

[occasionallyprosie]

The Look of the Hero

Chapter 1: "Bending the Knee"

After a string of particularly nasty battles, resulting in a deficit of healing items, the heroes end up in Legend's era just outside Kakariko. Only… the supposed relationship Legend has with the town turns out to be just a bit different than what they thought. Warriors especially isn't happy with what he discovers, and he knows Sky and Twilight won't be either.

Next>>

Read On AO3

----

Legend had Hyrule slumped against him, his arm looped over his shoulder. The others were staggering behind as he led the way to the closest town and safe settlement despite how much panic it sourced in his head.

His hair was still pink, it hadn't faded since Twilight begged him to change into a bunny while the rancher was sick. He was in his red mail—it was stronger and better protection than his hero's tunic—his hair had grown out significantly—Ravio and Wind like to braid it so he grew it out for them— and he didn't have his contacts in—he lost them in his fight with Yuga.

The panic about his appearance thrummed in his mind as they arrived at Kakariko Village and where it was nestled in the mountainside.

"Is that... Link?"

Legend looked up and spotted the woman who stood at the path, holding a crate of books.

“M—Miss Purah!" He called. "I have wounded, is there—"

"Come!" She said quickly, already rushing further into town. "I'll have the infirmary ready for a dozen."

"There's nine—" he sighed as she disappeared from view. He shook his head.

"Purah?" Wild asked. “I have a Purah too.” His voice was pained, most likely due to the rather deep gash in his side which he couldn’t even rest a bit as he helped Four, who had a broken leg.

"My... An old friend," Legend said. "I grew up in—near Kakariko. Come on. They'll help us."

Please don't let them call the elder.

They filed into the infirmary. Legend made sure everyone got to a bed as the medics quickly began to fuss over them. Just as he got Time into one of the beds, Purah dragged him to the last one and sat him down herself.

She wrapped his bleeding arm in a bandage as they spoke in quiet whispers. She didn't give him a potion—they both knew the elder disapproved of that—but she ran a hand through his hair.

"Link..." she breathed, worry filling her eyes.

"I-I haven't been able to fix it," he whispered. "I became a bunny again and last time it faded to blond but my roots are coming in and—"

"I'll fix it. I'll fix it, Kit," she promised. "Your clothes too, I’m sure I have some spare somewhere. Sahasrahla may be on his way if anyone mentioned your return—"

The door swung open.

Legend knew who it was before he even looked, it was the way the door was opened, the way they stepped into the room with a step, step-thud. Purah shifted to block him, but they both knew it was no use.

"Ah. Link."

Legend forced himself off the medical bed—ignoring both Twilight and Warriors telling him to not to—and dropped down on one knee, propping an arm on it and bowing his head.

"Elder Sahasrahla," he greeted blankly.

He didn't hear a response, but he also wasn't given permission to stand. Pain burned through him, his rib was still injured and his knee in bad condition too, his—Purah hadn't had time to help him bind it, but that wasn't something Sahasrahla would care about.

"So who are our guests?" Sahasrahla asked, moving further into the infirmary. Legend didn't dare move his ears to listen easier, keeping them straight back and hearing the medics continue to work with the other heroes. He begged one of them to speak up, knowing he wasn't granted permission to say a word.

"Kit, please," Purah whispered to him as Warriors spoke up and introduced them. "You’re badly hurt."

He barely glanced at her, meeting her worried eyes and saw her reluctantly give in.

The others spoke up, thank the goddesses, and explained the situation to Sahasrahla. They explained the time travel and the portals they all followed, Legend had hoped they'd mention how sometimes they had no choice but to enter a portal, but nobody did and he knew that dug his grave deeper.

Purah slipped a new bracelet over his wrist, almost silently pleading with him not to lose it in their tongue.

Once Sahasrahla was satisfied by the information he was given, he made that clear.

"I see. I will not bother you all any longer, though I must speak with Link."

"No—"

Purah went silent when Legend hit her leg.

"Was there something else you wished to mention, young Purah?"

Legend needed her to stay quiet, but of course she didn’t. "Elder, Link is still injured. He requires healing—"

"Purah," Legend spoke, daring to break his silence. He didn't raise his head. "I'm fine."

"Link—"

"See, he's fine. Let's go, young one."

Legend rose. He nearly fell back again but managed to play it off as bowing again as Sahasrahla left. He forced himself back to his feet and followed without looking any of his companions in the eye.

The villagers looked sad when they saw him, blood soaking the side of his tunic, the slight limp in his step from rolling his ankle on a rock while fending off a monster.

Sahasrahla led him to the elder's home and Legend promptly dropped to a kneel as soon as they entered, hoping his blood didn't drip to the carpet floor.

Sahasrahla moved around him and he held his breath, preparing for the oncoming scolding and pain.

And like clockwork it came. A hand grabbing his hair and forcing him to raise his head.

"What is this?" Sahasrahla hissed. "And amongst heroes too? I do not know why some wore blue, or red and purple in addition to it, or why one wore full armor, but this is not the look of a hero."

He pulled his hair painfully and suddenly he was ten again, fresh after his first adventure.

"This hair must be fixed," the elder said lowly. "Burn this wretched pink out, and cut it too. This is far too long for a hero. And your eyes—"

Link only barely kept his face impassive and kept the tears from forming as Sahasrahla grabbed his chin now, grip punishing, and further forced his face up so he could see his eyes.

"Red is not the color of the hero. Green or blue are his colors, we were kind enough to allow you to choose blue for your eyes. And that goes for your clothing too."

He practically threw Link's face aside, the kid teenager barely managed not to fall over with the force.

"What was that the woman said? You required medical attention? And that cut in your arm... do not think I didn't see your limp either, Link. Tell me."

"My injuries are shallow and unimportant, they will heal by dawn," he forced out.

"Bah!" The elder's cane smacked his face, breaking open his lip. He barely kept himself from making a sound, or reacting to the hit. "You should not have been injured in the first place! You were trained better than that, boy."

"Yes, Elder."

"You will fix your hair, and your eyes, and your clothes. I best see a real hero next time you enter my village."

"Yes, Elder."

"And remind that woman, Purah, that you are nobody to her. Remember, Link. You are a Hylian, an average nobody, you have no ties to this village other than visiting to sell produce."

"Yes, Elder."

He managed to get back to the infirmary without collapsing, but that meant nothing for the moment he reached the bed.

Legend woke up pained, but to his shock, he didn't see the ceiling of the Kakariko inn. 

He saw the ceiling of a room he hadn't slept in since he was eight. 

It took him a second to realize it, and the moment he did, he shot up.

Any pain that flared through him was promptly ignored as he pushed himself onto his feet and leaned against the tabletop that was once covered in papers and pencils and paints and oils, it still was but far neater and organized.

He knocked over a chair and he knew it, he leaned back against the table, breathing heavily and blinking spots from his eyes.

The door opened and he froze up.

"Schol—Link? Are you alright?" Warriors. The blur of color brought the familiar voice toward him. He shook his head to try and clear the daze of injury and overnight healing.

"Captain?" He had to make sure.

"Yeah—You gave us a bit of a scare there, Scholar," he said and gloved hands guided him to sit on the bed he had near leapt from. "Miss Purah let us stay in her house, she said the old man—the elder, I mean, isn't allowed to enter a home unwelcome no matter his status."

Legend nodded. "It's against tradition, the home is to be protected against all evils, even emotional ones. If someone wished to enter, they can't cause any distress or lead others in the home to feel in danger, and as hosts we had to make sure any guests felt protected."

"The Sheikah are secretive in my time, I didn't know that," Warriors said and finally his vision was fully cleared and he could meet Warriors' eyes. "We need to talk, Link."

Legend grimaced. "Do we?"

"You walked away from the medics while extremely injured. We've had this talk before—"

"I didn't have a choice," Legend snapped, dropping his gaze and avoiding eye contact. "It won't happen again."

"Link," he flinched back from that damned name, Warriors reached out to grasp his arm, "what did that man do to you? You came back with a fresh bruise on your face and a cut on your lip that I know for a fact wasn't there before."

  Because Warriors had been the one to check Legend after the fight, because Warriors was their field medic and knew every single injury shown or mentioned.

Legend refused to look at him but Warriors was moving so he'd meet his eyes. What was worse was he met those bright blue—a soft cobalt color, almost metallic or maybe aquatic in shade—eyes, he felt a surge of fear at the reminder of the absence of contacts in his own.

He brought a hand up to cover them, forcing out a breath and ignoring the small flare of pain when he brushed a sensitive bruise.

"Look, the Elder has certain expectations and I—"

"So he did that to you."

"Captain—"

"No. Did he or did he not hit you?"

Legend didn't respond but Warriors pulled his hand down from blocking his eyes. Piercing metallic blue eyes cut through Legend as Warriors forced him to meet his eyes.

"Link—"

"Stop it," he tried. "It's not—It's not a big deal, I know better—"

"Vet, you’re a kid."

"I'm not!"

"You're underaged in every era that has an age of majority!"

Warriors squeezed Legend's shoulders, trying to get the younger hero to just see what he was talking about. He was one of the few people who Legend actually told his age, which was surprising seeing as they were the least close for a while there.

Warriors had seen how dynamics played out from the beginning. Wind and Legend were a pair from the start, likewise Sky and Wild seemed to get along well while Twilight and Four were near inseparable. Warriors had been happy to have his baby brother—even if he wasn't a baby anymore—at his side again, and Time didn't seem to mind sticking closer, besides, his Sprite seemed to have gotten a Sprite of his own as Hyrule always seemed to follow after Time.

As time went on, Warriors had noticed the dynamics shift. Wild gravitated more towards Legend, who also attracted Hyrule into their little trio. Wind latched onto Time. Warriors found himself finding a strong feeling of camaraderie in Twilight and Sky. Four flitted around each group with ease.

And things kept shifting, generally reverting back to their very first pairings, but they came to a balanced mix where everyone was mostly comfortable with everyone.

 Yet, it took a long time before Warriors could actually connect with Legend. After he did, it was a night they needed to gather information and they were paired off, that Legend confided his age to Warriors.

The captain never expected their veteran to be seventeen, much less sixteen when they first met and turning seventeen within a couple months of gathering together, but that was the case. It became more obvious with time, but nonetheless, the teenager sitting in front of him was mature beyond his years...

That didn't mean he wasn't still a kid, and people who'd known him since he was little would know that.

Even if he didn't, the elder had no right to strike Legend.

Warriors squeezed Legend's shoulders gently and spoke fast enough that Legend didn't get a chance to argue without interrupting. "I'm not calling you a child, but you’re still a kid and even if you weren't, he has no right to raise a hand to you."

Legend scowled. "It was a cane, first of all—"

Warriors gaped. "A cane?!"

Legend seemed to realized that was not the right thing to say if he wanted Warriors to stop worrying or pushing. "It doesn't matter! It's not a big deal and it was perfectly avoidable if I was just—"

To the captain's surprise, Legend floundered for a moment, scrambling to find words, which was extremely uncharacteristic of their scholar.

"—if I just—I know better than to come to Kakariko like this." He gestured vaguely.

Warriors frowned. "Like what, Link."

He didn't like how Legend recoiled at his own name.

"Like... red and-and... not... not green," he said weakly, trying to hide his head in his hands again but Warriors quickly caught his face in his own hands. He was careful not to touch his injuries, but gently made him look up.

Red. Red like his eyes, dark and deep like rubies, in certain light they looked like fire, lava at the depths of volcanoes, and in other light they glinted like pools of blood.

He brushed his thumb under Legend's eye, gentle and careful. "Red like these?"

Legend grimaced and nodded. "I... I have contacts—I had contacts, blue ones, I lost them when I fought Yuga and Ganon last time but... I-I thought... I hoped I didn't need to replace them."

And if he wasn’t supposed to come here without them, he didn't intend to come back to Kakariko at all.

"Red like your tunic too?" Warriors added, raising an eyebrow and Legend nodded. "Why can't you wear red or let your natural eye color be there?"

He winced. "Because heroes don't look like the shadows they defeat."

"Who told you that?" Warriors asked.

Legend gave him an incredulous look. Warriors sighed.

"Did others than the elder tell you that?"

"Most of the old folk," Legend huffed. "Only Momma and Aunty said I shouldn't need to change to be a hero."

Warriors studied his face, the way his shoulders were drawn in and how he avoided eye contact. The way he spoke, quiet and almost hushed rather than just soft.

"Okay—Listen, your appearance doesn't define how much of a hero you are," Warriors told him firmly, well aware he was being hypocritical. "We can get Sky and everyone else who came before you, whoever they're making you emulate, talk to him and handle this."

"You can't—"

"You've never mentioned a mother before, Link."

Legend flinched again and Warriors wondered if he just shouldn't call him by his name.

"I... I don't have a mother," he corrected himself firmly.

“Then who told you that you didn’t need to change to be a hero?” Warriors needed him to stop holding onto this now-obvious lie he was expected to tell. Someone, the elder, had done something to make Legend deny his own mother. “Kid, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we aren’t exactly the most homogenous group, goddesses, the only ones with blue eyes are the Rancher, Champion, and Sprite. The Sailor has green, Traveler’s and Smithy’s are brown, mine are gray, and the Sky Knight’s, I swear, jump between blue and white.”

Legend snorted. “White? He isn’t the Old Man.”

“There’s a difference there and I stand by my words.” Warriors grinned a bit, he got him to laugh. “My point is, would you expect any of us to change our appearance for the sake of… what? Tradition?”

“No…” He almost smirked at how petulant Legend looked for a moment there. “But that’s—That’s different! You’re all—You…”

“We’re what?”

“You’re hylian,” he near whispered. “I…”

“I’m part Gerudo,” Warriors admitted. “My great grandmother was a Gerudo. Not to mention that the Skyloftian is human, and the Traveler’s half fairy. Kid—“

“But you’re part hylian, both you and the Traveler. Sky founded Hyrule, he’s the Chosen Hero, you think anyone debates whether or not he’s a hero?”

“Why does our blood matter? Why does our heritage matter?” Warriors pressed. “Come on, we both know that you don’t care that much, you’re just trying to justify it. Why are you actually worried about this?”

The long beat of silence that followed proved Warriors was right, the way Legend hunched in on himself.

He whispered something, far too quietly for Warriors to hear much less understand.

“I can’t hear you, kid.”

He glanced at him, then—still quiet, still barely a whisper, but just loud enough that Warriors could hear—repeated himself.

“He said he’d exile them… my mother and my aunt… Aunty could survive, she’s a warrior, we—they’re trained for survival. But Momma…” Legend trailed off. “She’s a scholar, not a warrior, she knows the theory but… Not to mention, Sahasrahla has all of the warriors under his thumb, Sheikah assassins, and if I… if I go too far, he’d send them after them.”

He was being threatened. His kid brother was being threatened, forced into this role by an old guy in power.

Warriors held back his fury to push pink locks back, and guide Legend to stop looking down at his lap to look him in the eyes.

“We won’t let him, you hear me? I’ll take Sky and the Rancher, and we’ll have a talk with him. We won’t hurt him, but we’ll handle it.”

“You’ll handle it?” Legend looked almost scared, eyes going wide and staring at him. "You can't hurt him. He's not--He isn't a bad person, Captain, he's just... set in his ways."

Ignoring that Legend was literally defending his abuser. “We’ll handle it, and I swear, he won't be... physically harmed, I can't vouch he won't take a hit to his ego though." He knew the other two would be absolutely ecstatic to… talk to the elder. “Do you trust me?”

“I do! I do, you’re—Of course, I trust you, all three of you, you’re my—But—you can’t just… Can you?”

He gently squeezed the back of his neck, pulling the younger hero closer and pressing his lips against his forehead. Legend went slack, inhaling sharply.

“We’ll take care of it," he said softly against his forehead, pulling away to look him in the eyes, "just trust me.”

“I… Okay,” Legend nodded slightly, something sad and resigned in his eyes. “Okay. I trust you.”

Next>>

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Aww, look at all the fluff I wrote! Hope nothing, uh, happens

Hemisi giggled in delight as she danced around Orik. The boy’s red eyes shimmered with obvious love as he laughed with her, letting her take his hands and guide him through the traditional dance.

Ganondorf scowled.

He felt a light tap against his shoulder, and he turned to see Nabooru smirking at him. “Oh, stop looking so glum. They’re having fun.”

“Come on, Father,” his son laughed. “A Sheikah son-in-law would be pretty cool!”

"Half-Sheikah," Ganondorf corrected. The boy was still half Hylian. He wasn't sure if that made it better or worse.

“Let’s not get too ahead of ourselves,” Nabooru chided their boy lightly. “They’re only just starting to date.”

Their son gave an unconvinced uh huh and scurried into the crowd to harass his sister. Ganondorf scowled all the more.

“You don’t like him?” Nabooru asked.

Well. He didn’t particularly dislike the kid personally. But…

This wasn’t exactly a feeling Ganondorf was familiar with. A possessive protectiveness pulled at him, and he wasn’t entirely sure how to process it. Instead, he went for the obvious. “He’s one of them.”

“Not being Gerudo isn’t a crime, you know,” Nabooru replied with a roll of her eyes. “Just because our way of living is better doesn’t mean there aren’t other ways to do it. Nor does it make them evil.”

“He’s the princess’ personal guard,” Ganondorf argued further.

“Our target is the Triforce, not the princess,” Nabooru countered in a much quieter tone. “The girl is hardly a threat. I don’t think she’s ever spoken a word in her life, anyway.”

Ganondorf sighed.

“Oh, stop that,” his wife laughed. “You’re just upset because he’s dating our daughter. The boy’s sweet, and a good fighter too. Perhaps when the dust settles he’ll still be able to be with her.”

The idea rolled around in his mind briefly. Hemisi did look happy with him, and… Ganondorf certainly couldn’t deny the boy was a good fighter based on what he’d witnessed at the sparring match.

That damn sparring match. That had gotten far too out of hand. Ganondorf didn’t like it. But the boy had backed off quickly, and…

Ganondorf sighed again. “Maybe so. I… wouldn’t mind him being with us.”

Nabooru leaned her head on his shoulder as Hemisi tackled her brother after getting shoved into Orik. The Sheikah boy watched the exchange with an air of discomfort, though he laughed along, before Hemisi dragged him into the roughhousing too. His cheer became genuine, forgetting who was watching, and the three teenagers’ giggles filled the air along with the music. Ganondorf smiled at it – soon he would have everything, and his children’s happiness would be indestructible.

And perhaps that boy would be able to enjoy their victory too.

[secretlysheikah]

Me and my creation! Poor traumatized Hiri (Sheikah). Shes seen horrors~

Whoever wishes to join in, please do!

Creator vs. Creation picrew!

tagged by @holylustration

me and my current blorbo Eltura

uhhh I'm sure some of these will be double tags but whatevs! @aylinvail @maggotknight @pycnolite @vossn @illitra @indigo-scribbles

[princeyam]

civilian sheik

commission for @kellerboiiiii

[rawliverandgoronspice]

If Ganondorf was lying to anyone during that Wind Waker speech, he’d be lying to himself. The gerudo desert was indeed harsh, and Hyrule sucked during his time, but legit everything he did in Ocarina of Time is completely unjustifiable, except for the murder of the King of Hyrule. The man sat in luxury for 7 years with monsters surrounding the land, while his people remained in the desert. Yet at the end of the day, he believed that he had every right to do all of that.

Self-justification isn’t a trait that’s outright noticeable with Ganondorf, but Wind Waker puts it out in the open and shows that yes, the self proclaimed “King of Evil” truly believes he’s deserving of the world, and that his circumstances justify his crimes.

I feel like the fandom misses that while Ganondorf may not be this complex 5d villain, he still carries an interesting amount of traits like this

Hey, thanks for the ask!! I'm sorry, I haven't slept in over 24h and felt particularly rhapsodic today so uhhhh sorrryyyyy for being cringe about my little guyyyyyy (and the approximate use of English language that might ensue)

So yeah, I think there's absolutely a huge part of that, trying to make sense of the violently absurd situation he found himself in, a monster and one of the last people who remembers Hyrule and how it was destroyed, and rationalizing to himself why it is not meaningless.

I have to say, not to be uhhh a parody of myself, but I think it could be a little bit more complicated than that (all of it being interpretations of the text that I don't think canon entirely backs always, but my point is that it could be read out of it).

If Ganondorf wanted any meaningful chance to reshape his own reality, then there's no doing that without access to the Triforce. If he had wanted to go for the King's head and nothing else, he would have been stopped immediately by everybody who do have access to shards of the keys to the Sacred Realm (not to mention how trigger happy Zelda was about wishing ????? something to the Triforce about erasing him in some form). I don't think it would have been reasonable to aim for anything but the Triforce as a military goal --not to mention that his beef is half with Hyrule, and half with the Goddesses themselves for considering the gerudos beneath them in some form and for some reason (which becomes even more apparent and deranged in Wind Waker, as part of why he can't let go of Hyrule in my opinion is because their intervention was so violent he simply cannot wrap his head around it and, as usual, Will Not Be Defeated >:((( because he's that kind of bitter little shithead, which I uhhhh relate to a little too much maybe). And then, well. You can't exactly ask for the Triforce and be nice about it, right?

I'm not saying he wasn't gleefully horrible about it the entire time, but I can absolutely see a case of him being self-centered enough to see each of his actions as the necessary (or righteous/vengeful) next step to get closer to his goals, and one thing leads to the other, and after seven years of strife, well, the kingdom you wanted to rule is a pile of rubble, ash and misery you enforced at every step, and oops! You have alienated absolutely everyone who aren't your weird moms!

There's a ton of things to say about the many interpretations that could be made of his relationship to the gerudos so I won't over-expand on that, but, uhhhh yeah he probably used them, or at the very least ruled them with an iron fist to enforce his own power he believed unquestionnable (even if the goal was genuinely to do things for their sake, which in my opinion could still be argued --Hyrule is a big nightmare place during his reign, but the Valley is the only location basically untouched with arguably Kakariko after all).

To be honest, I think TP Ganondorf is more accursed with a sense of self-justification than WW Ganon, who has a surprising amount of clarity on his own motives (to restate my tags on a post I just reblogged: I don't think "I coveted this wind, I suppose" is particularly self-pitying, it's soberingly self-aware if anything). TP Ganon is the one who's obsessed with divine purpose and considering himself a weird take on the Chosen One.

But yeah, I think... To be completely honest, I sometimes feel like Ganondorf's potential (!!! not actual execution, very important to draw this distinction) is just kind of too large for the IP that birthed him? The full breadth of his complexity cannot be explored in a setting that demands he merely generates a simple conflict that doesn't seriously question the status quo while everything about him inherently begs for it (and I love Zelda and its simplicity and what it does, to be very clear!). Like, I know this is just me justifying my own investment to a degree, but... his relationship to the gerudo culture, his relationship to gender, to divinity, to fate, to self-definition, to absolute resistance grinded down to the point of absurdity (but at the same time, what else is there to do)... like all of this absolutely has potential to be large and epic and breathtaking, but. Nintendo needs to preserve the statut quo. And Ganondorf just cannot express all of these themes without having this simple world literally collapse around him.

This is what I find incredibly compelling about this dramatic disaster of a guy. And the very media that suggested all of these contradictions and inner conflicts (without necessarily understanding them at first I think) is now fighting tooth and nail against what it introduced, what he can embody and once questioned (in WW most potently) for the sake of Hyrule's moral balance, backpedalling into a state of simplicity that just never truly existed to that degree before --partially, in my opinion, because this conflict is scary to face heads on without taking significant artistic risks I am not confident we will ever see again, to be uhh less than optimistic.

So yeah! He isn't that complicated as the villain of the children video games for sure!! But. As a character, there's so much there, just sitting right under the surface.

[imababblekat]

Revali X Sheika Reader

Anon Request; "Hello! May I request Revali w/ a Sheikah!Reader who is extremely kind but also a skilled fighter alongside Impa? Thank you, good luck for everything!"

~xXx~

The first time Revali met you, he didn’t think much. The Rito champion assumed you were an acting guard for Impa, to which he honestly didn’t understand the need for considering her own impressive skill as a fighter. While boastful and full of pride towards others, neither of you rarely conversed. He honestly thought you quite boring, as compared to his own very stoic rival, Link. It wasn’t till the Sheika’s visit to his homeland that he realized just how full of color you truly were.

It was another restless night for Revali, full of tossing and turning in anticipation to get his signature move down right. It secretly irked him how gifted the other Champions were, having been blessed with magical abilities that came as easy as taking a breath. He’d get his move down right, one day, but in the meantime sleep and rest were not helping him get there. The Rito had taken to the skies not moments after making the final descion to get up and work harder, soaring over to the flight range in the dead of night. The chilly air during such a time was nothing to him, so it came as quite the surprise when his sharp eyes picked up the flickering lights of a fire down below.

The closer he guided down to the small hut, the tunes of a soft flute flited to his ears. Whoever had been playing it was so focused on their craft that they had not heard him land and make way into the range’s hut. Once his eyes had adjusted to the light of the cooking pot, Revali immediately recognized who had beaten him to the range. Your back to him, you had not a single clue of your audience as you continued to play the melody of your village so far from the Rito’s. It was melodic and mystifying, a sound that very few outsiders ever got to experience. Yet, Revali was ever so lucky to hear it himself as it resounded off the ranges peaks and be played by non-other than you.

So lost in the beautiful tune you spun, Revali couldn’t help but think back to the past week of your tribes visit. It had taken some time for you to adjust, showing that all the quiet moments of your presence being that because you were actually quite shy, but once you had opened up, Revali somewhat regretted thinking you so dull. You were quite cheerful and oh so kind. The children of his village adored you; always asking you to help them with something or to play or even watch as they awkwardly flapped through the air. Anytime they struggled, you were always quick to encourage them on with unending support. It was something the Rito Champion soon realized he truly admired about you, and he wondered if it was because he had never had someone there to support him.

The sound of a clearing throat made him slightly jump, and he wondered when you had stopped playing or had even taken note of his presence. With a soft smile and confused brows upon your face, Revali was quick to gain composer as to not make him seem off guard.

“Couldn’t sleep?”, you questioned with a hint of concern.

Revali shook his head, stepping forward to stand by where you sat before the ranges cavern.

“Hmph, sleep. Sleeping is for those who ignore their potential and take the easy route about life.”, he huffed, wings crossed as he watched you stand and dust off your Rito winter garb. An outfit he had to fight himself from internally thinking about how nice you appeared in.

“Rest, dear Revali, is what you need.”, you peered out to the ranges peaks before turning to point back at the bow strapped to his back.

“I’ve seen you train, better yet, I’ve seen what you like after.”

Revali reveled in the admittance that you’d seen him in action.

“Oh? An admire?”, he teased with a raised brow and slightly puffed chest.

“No”, you rolled you’re eyes but kept your smile, “Someone who is concerned for the Rito who acts all high and mighty, but staggers away when no ones looking and tries to hide fallen injuries.

Said Rito winced a bit at your statement. He was so careful to make sure no one saw his mistakes or how much of a toll his over training was taking on him. Revali was a prideful sort, he kept himself to high standards and worked hard to be where he was today, unlike most of the others he was assigned to fight alongside of. Last thing he needed was to be seen as weak.

Before Revali could angrily retaliate, you quickly stepped forward and into his space. You face had been inches from his, and he quickly took a step back with a soft squawk, his cheek feathers fluffing up in a bit of embarrassment.

“I know! I’ll challenge you to rest!”

It took Revali a moment to comprehend what you had said, but once he had any bitterness from before had been quickly replaced with intrigue. If there was one thing Revali was known for it was his eagerness to prove himself in competition. With a smirk, he stepped forward in challenge, wings on his hips and startlingly green eyes catching your unwavering form.

“Heh, and what do tell, are you proposing?”

“A shooting challenge.”, you confidently winked, pulling out your own bow.

This caused Revali to let out a heavy laugh, one that only made you smile wider.

“Are you serious?! You do know who you’re talking to right?”, Revali confidently grinned, taking out his bow and holding it as though it were a magnificent treasure.

“What? Are you a kokoo?”, you jested, making bocking sounds to only further ruffle Revali’s feathers.

With a huff, Revali stepped toward the end of the flight range’s landing, you quickly following behind him.

“There.”, he pointed to some targets set in the far distance. “Whoever hits all of those wins. Think you can do that, Sheika guard?”

Narrowing your eyes, Revali knew he tugged a string with the title he’d thrown at you, but was left confused when your dour expression changed to one of mischief.

“I’ll do you one better. If I hit those targets blindfolded, you have to rest. For a week!”

Revali smirked with a raised beak. You really had no idea what you were getting yourself into huh?

“Fine, but if you miss a single target, you will craft my arrows for the same amount of time.”

It was known that Sheika were skilled in the ways of crafting weapons, and Revali reveled at the thought of showing up Link with some new, quicker arrows.

With a nod of agreement you quickly wrapped a piece of cloth around your eyes, taking stance along the edge and drawing your bow. Just behind you, Revali held an already triumphant smirk. He knew the range better than anyone, and knew just exactly how rough and unexpected it’s winding winds could be. How could someone who couldn’t even fly be expected to hit targets, blindfolded, in such unpredictable situations.

And yet, just as how you had taken him by surprise when you’d first arrived and shown your true personality, you had once again done so in the form of archery. With a deep breath and senses he couldn’t even begin to comprehend that you were capable of on high alert, you fired. Each arrow seemed to be carried by the sharp gust of wind, as though you some how knew what direction it would take. Revali watched in awe as the arrows twisted and turned in ways he didn’t think was even possible, the sound of them hitting their mark dead on resounding in his mind. Just as the tune you played on your wonderful flute had moments prior. Was your playing a tactic to learn the ranges winds?

Removing your blindfold and shaking your hair back into place, you didn’t even bother to look at the targets you hit, instead turning to the awestruck Rito Champion with a smirk of your own.

“See you back at the village. Oh, and one more thing,” you brushed teasingly against him as you made your leave.

“I’m not a guard. I’m a warriors aprentice.”

Watching your retreating form, Revali felt a warmth blooming within his chest and let out a small chuckle with a shake of his head and a genuine grin, your admirable skills with a bow playing back in his memory.

You weren’t boring in the slightest.