(Sending this in an ask so I don't spam you with four different comments on your disability post. 💀 No need to reply. Just getting this out there.)
*dumps*
I'm seriously dealing with this right now.
Working on a fic with a potentially disabled robot character. It's not explicitly stated in game, but it is implied.
As a chronically ill person, I really want to lean into it, explore it, and show that the character is loveable and awesome as a disabled person. That there's more to him than what's disabling him without minimizing the impact it has on his life. Because I would want that to be said about me.
But like. He's a robot.
There's no resources available to fix him (LITERALLY fix him. As a robot) where he's located, so his disability is plausible in-game. But if I'm exploring what happens after, where he leaves his current location, the thought of fixing him comes up. There'd probably be resources available in this other place.
I don't want to fix him. I think it would send the wrong message. But also. Not fixing him might send a wrong message too. It might put blame on him, by making it where the only thing keeping him from getting "better" is himself, you know? Implying that he would get "better" if he just let himself get better.
I would really hate for that to be the takeaway from the fic. It's a really crappy way of thinking, and I've had to face similar accusations myself.
So I'm in a bit of an uncanny valley right now.. Not sure what to do about it.
Excuse me for the ramble. I just think it's neat that you posted this when I started really focusing on the issue. Is this a sign. What does it mean for me.
Anyway. The disability removal trope in media has always rubbed me the wrong way with its harmful implications, and it's uncomfortably common. :( Glad to know I'm not the only one who feels that way.
Okay I'm done. Thanks.
I saw this ask, looked up from my phone in deep thought, went on a whole spiel out loud about it, and then promptly forgot it came from an ask buT I"M HERE NOW, and I wiLL reply because. I think I could maybe offer some thoughts
...And it turns out I have Many Thoughts.
I don't know this robot character you're messing with or to what extent he'd "need" repairs, but I feel there's a few easy questions to ask first before you could decide whether it's a good option for the story! Better, have him Himself grapple with these questions and allow him agency in the decision (aka: Whatever you do, don't force it on him sdhgk)
Since I don't know what disability this robot's got, let's just say he's got an arm that's totally dead. Just can't be used. But just popping it off wouldn't be easy due to the mechanics going on, and perhaps the damage goes further than just the arm.
He's already learned to adapt to how that arm sits. He's learned to balance with the weight of it, knows how to avoid bumping it into things, is totally accustomed to just using one arm.
Now, suddenly, he's in a situation with high-tech engineers who could replace that arm no problem and make it work just as it always did.
Now he's got to ask himself,
"Do I want to?" I mean, obvious question, but really. If he's totally happy with how he lives, not despite his disability but just With It, then what would necessarily be the point of going through a whole procedure? And even if he's not totally happy, but only mildly inconvenienced at best now that he's adapted, is going through with a Robot Surgery and all the struggles of adapting with a new arm worth it?
"Would I be able to adapt to having two arms again?" Depending on how long he's had his disability for, this could be amplified by a lot. If it's been almost his entire life with the disability, having another arm again would be almost totally foreign. He'd have to re-balance himself without the weight, get used to the feeling of electricity circulating on that side of him, learn how to control that arm again, go through whatever the robot equivalent of physical therapy is, and that's IF the arm replacement goes 100% right. Which is another thing...
"What's the chance that the replacement doesn't work?" Assuming he's not given a perfect solution that just will totally work no questions asked, there's always a chance it just won't work. The body may not accept a new arm, the damage may have spread too far and any replacements would have to go further than just the arm, and would he be comfortable with that? And what if it not only doesn't work, but instead makes it worse? Would jamming a new arm into a damaged socket just spread the damage further?
If you want to lean real far into the robot aspect, have an existential crisis but Ship of Theseus style, especially if there's a lot of integral parts that would need repairs. Yknow, the whole "if I replace all the parts of a ship, is it still the same ship?" but in this case, Robot.
Also, from a writer perspective... one of the reasons suddenly curing a disability is seen is Not Great is especially notable in cases where the disability was caused by an injury (as opposed to being born with it). Because then there's likely trauma attached to it. There's trauma that the person/character has had to work through, accept, and learn to move on with. And that's not easy, especially depending on the severity of the disability.
And once they've gone on that journey to live with and embrace their disability, gone through the massive life changes and mental adjustments that are required to proceed with life, suddenly providing a cure will make that journey seem... like it had moot point, kind of.
It'd be like. I dunno, say Character A's ancestor did a bad thing. And they spend the whole story grappling with that bad thing their ancestor did that they had no control over. Near the end of the story they learn to accept it, vow to be better than that ancestor, whatever. Only for the story to end by going "Surprise! That ancestor never did it at all, they were framed! Your bloodline is innocent! Hurray!"
Does that make sense? Suddenly there was no point to any of that. It damages the story As Well as having less than ideal implications.
ANd my last point ....... About the "the only thing keeping him from getting 'better' is himself, you know? Implying that he would get 'better' if he just let himself get better."
I mean... putting aside any implication that being disabled is somehow "lesser" than not being disabled, as I doubt that was your intention,
Again, it mostly depends on the extent of the disability. Is he gonna die without it being fixed? Is he in utterly horrific agony that he's screaming about the entire time while the button for a cure is in front of his face?
Because even THEN, "how will I manage when suddenly NOT disabled" is a question that's gotta be asked and addressed. It might be the totally reasonable decision to have him take a cure, but the Ramifications of sudden curing have gotta be acknowledged, especially if he's been disabled for a while.
Is he choosing to hurt for the sake of hurting, or is it due to being scared/uncertain of what a life not hurting looks like?
OR, if this disability hardly bothers him, then... like. Again. It would make sense to NOT want to go through all the steps to get it repaired if it could just cause more problems. Say it's as something as small as an annoying twitch. Like, say his hands twitch a lot, perhaps even shake. But he's used to it. It's been years and it's just part of how he is now. He doesn't necessarily care to get it fixed, because it's... just part of him.
At that point, it'd just be weird to see him as "keeping himself from getting better," because he's... fine? Relatively?
I dunno. For that question I guess it mostly depends on Is He Happy Right Now/is he content with his disability already. Because yea, if he is content, like... who cares if he doesn't fix it. Even if it's more severe like the whole non-functioning arm idea I mentioned earlier. Or hell maybe he's totally paralyzed! Hasn't walked for years! Found other means of mobility and has learned to adapt to it! Is totally happy while being paralyzed! Not mentioning how complicated the ''adapting to suddenly not being disabled anymore'' becomes with something as complex as that
If he doesn't mind it too much, then.......... why go through all that trouble if he's Fine, right? Who is being hurt by that?
anyway. That was a really long post. I hope my rambles??? Help you at all with that?? I mean like I said in my original post there can be totally innocent reasons to "cure" a disability in a story, it just has to be handled with care and sensitivity. Give the character some amount of agency in it!
...yknow, like. So long as you're not going down the "i'm so miserable with my disability it's either i get cured or i die" route. because . u know. I don't need to explain why that's not great hopefully sdghKSLJDGH
OK ENOUGH RAMBLING!!!!!!! this gave me many thoughts about robot disability, something I do not typically think about
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Secrets of the Shadows Pt 3 (Wolf Link Reveal Fic)
(@ludoluck @goosekee @artisticgamer)
Summary: When Link goes missing shortly after his adventure, Rusl is worried. Preparing to leave and search for him, he stumbles onto a wolf. This has to be a sign of trouble, right? Rusl thinks it is, and the swordsman attempts to eliminate the threat... and then realizes that there is far, far more to this beast than he thought possible.
(Click here to read on AO3)
Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4
Rusl’s neck was killing him. Probably because he’d fallen asleep in a chair and his head was bent forward at an awkward angle. He stretched, feeling his neck pop uncomfortably, and he grimaced. Then he looked down at the bed to check on Link.
His boy was quiet. Still. Entirely too still. Entirely too pale.
He wasn’t breathing.
“Link?!” Rusl immediately yelped, leaping towards the teenager, shaking him. “Link!”
His fingers slid clumsily towards Link’s neck, knowing there should be a pulse point there somewhere, but he felt nothing. His world started spiraling, and he called out for Renado. He didn’t know what to do, he—
Pulling back the blanket, he saw blood everywhere. Link’s wound—hadn’t it been healed? Why was it—he’d been bleeding all night and—goddesses no, no—
Rusl let out a cry of despair, holding his child and sobbing.
Gasping, Rusl nearly fell to the floor from the chair he’d been sitting on. He looked around wildly, adrenaline still surging through him, and saw that the bed in front of him was empty.
Empty.
No. No, no, no no no no nonono—
Rusl leapt to his feet, dizzy for a moment but ignoring it in lieu of searching for Link. He couldn’t have—that was just a dream, right, there was—the bed wasn’t empty because Link had been taken away, because Link had died, it was just—
Panting for air, Rusl rushed down the stairs of the inn where he had carried Link last night, and he nearly fell flat on his face when he saw his boy standing in the foyer.
“Link—what are you—are you okay?” he asked breathlessly, running to him and putting his hands on his shoulders. Before Link could even get a word in, Rusl added, “You almost died, Link, you need to rest!”
Renado walked up beside him, his calm demeanor bringing down the frantic energy in the room as Rusl finally got his wits about him. Link hadn’t died, he was fine, he was standing here, which was a huge improvement, but also—why was the boy out of bed he needed to recover—
“I was going to say that you should get back to bed,” Renado said serenely, a small smile on his face. “I admire your tenacity, Link, but your father is right. Give yourself another day to recover; the potions healed your wound, but you still lost a lot of blood.”
Link, already starting to look tired from the exertion, nodded reluctantly, allowing Rusl to guide him back towards his bed. He started leaning heavily on him and the railing by the time they got halfway up the stairs, panting for air, and Rusl just picked him up and carried him the rest of the way. When the boy was placed gently on the mattress, Rusl saw that he had a guilty expression on his face.
“What’s wrong?” the swordsman asked as he helped him lean against his pillow and the headboard.
“I didn’t mean t’ cause all this fuss,” Link said very quietly, eyes downcast.
Rusl felt his heart nearly stop. He what? What was he talking about? What would even—why would he—
“Spirits, Link,” Rusl said, his mind whirling. “You didn’t—this isn’t your fault.”
And then the emotions from all of it returned in an instant, and he finally, finally found the words to at least attempt to apologize, to at least try to address all the damage he had done. Rusl wasn’t sure he wanted to have this conversation, but Link’s seeming guilt about the entire ordeal was enough to spur him into action, even if he would rather disappear into the shadows and never have to see his boy look so hurt and scared again.
“I-it’s my fault,” he stammered. “I’m the one who hurt you, and—and I—Link, I—"
Link watched him, his guilt turning into worry and pain, and Rusl nearly lost his nerve right there.
“Damn it, Link, I—I didn’t know,” he choked out, fumbling to make his point. “I—how could I possibly know that you—Link, I am so sorry—”
“Pa…” Link whispered weakly as Rusl cried silently. The boy’s own eyes started to well with tears, and his bottom lip trembled. “P-Pa… Pa it’s okay… you d-didn’t know…”
Rusl continued to cry, his shoulders shaking. He attempted to pull Link close until the teenager winced in pain, and his guardian froze, feeling sick and horrified all over again. He bit his lip to stop himself from outright sobbing in front of the boy. This was not how this apology was supposed to go.
Link watched him, his face pinched in discomfort, and his own tears began to overflow as he clearly started to feel even more guilty. “Pa I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”
“Don’t,” Rusl immediately cut off, his voice shaking. He wiped a few stray tears off his boy’s cheeks. “Don’t you dare apologize, Link. Don’t even think about it.”
“B-but you—you think I’m a monster—”
The rest of Link’s ramblings fell on deaf ears as Rusl stared at him with his mouth agape. Did… what?! What in the world would compel Link to think Rusl thought—he—why would—
Was that why Link had been recoiling from him all this time?!
Goddesses. Of course it is. I called him a beast the first time. I almost killed him the second. Of course he thinks I view him as a monster; how many others have called him that?
Rusl placed both hands on Link’s face, cupping his cheeks and wiping the tears away with his thumbs before his hands slid down to grip the boy’s shoulders firmly. He looked him straight in the eye, feeling himself shiver, fighting his own emotional turmoil. He couldn’t even put into words how much it hurt his heart and soul to see Link making such an assumption, to see him suffering from the thought that his loved ones were afraid of him.
To know that he himself was the reason Link felt that way.
Why else would Link not speak of this strange ability of his? Why else would he hide from his family?
“Get away, beast!!”
Rusl bit his tongue, trying to steady his breathing as Link watched him pitifully, eyebrows crinkled together, cheeks puffed, face flushed.
“I’m not afraid of you,” Rusl said softly, breathing as evenly as possible to ensure his voice didn’t quiver. “No matter what form you take, no matter what befalls you, I will never think you’re a monster. You’re… you’re like a son to me, Link. You always will be. Don’t ever think otherwise.”
Link sniffled, biting his lip in an attempt to get a hold of himself. Rusl’s heart ached at the sight, and he pulled his boy to his chest, holding him tightly. “I love you so much, Link, and I’m so very proud of you.”
Link shivered, crumpling in the embrace and holding onto Rusl’s tunic with a weak grip. He shook rhythmically with quiet sobs, and Rusl held him even more tightly. He wanted to give him all the comfort in the world, but a sliver of fear slid into his heart like a dagger made of ice.
Memories of those wretched nights came back, memories of swords and torches and a terrified wolf, and Rusl felt he didn’t even deserve to be holding Link.
“You know I would never willingly hurt you, Link,” Rusl said, dread and a sickening self-loathing filling him at the thought of Link believing he hurt him knowingly. He pulled away to look his boy in the eye. “You know that, right?”
Link’s lip trembled, his eyes filled with tears, and he nodded, saying thickly, “I know, Pa.”
“Don’t lie to me,” Rusl argued, shaking his head as his own voice trembled. “Tell me you know.”
“I promise,” Link insisted, wrapping his arms around Rusl’s neck and hugging him. “I promise I know.”
Rusl sighed heavily, still feeling like the worst guardian in all of Hyrule, but also released from the terror that had been gripping him since that first night. He held Link tightly, carding a hand through his hair and kissing him gently on the head as the tears fell. There was a silent peace between the two, washing away the terror of the past couple days in a way that words could never do. And then Rusl had another thought pop into his mind, and he had to break the moment.
With a morose laugh, he asked, “Any other secrets I should know before disaster?”
Link pulled away a little, hiccupping and looking thoughtful. “W-well… I was trained in more sword skills by a skeletal version of the Hero before me. And he could turn into a golden wolf.”
Rusl stared at him a moment, dumbfounded. Then he decided he didn’t care. Pulling Link back to him, he commented, “At this point, I’ve heard of stranger things.”
Link giggled weakly into his chest, a bubbly, thick, almost carefree sound, and it released the last vestiges of tension in Rusl’s heart. The swordsman smiled to himself, closing his eyes and just living in the moment of having his boy back safe, alive, and no longer afraid. He massaged the back of Link’s neck, feeling the tension slowly drain out of the teenager, and as Link’s hiccups and sniffles settled into soft, relaxed breaths, Rusl felt the boy’s body melt into his arms in exhaustion. Giving him one last kiss on his head, Rusl gently laid Link back on the bed, tucking him in as he slept soundly.
With that heavy conversation finally addressed, Rusl felt simultaneously light and so, so drained. He watched Link sleep for a while, his mind buzzing with different thoughts.
Link had been trained by a legendary hero? Probably the same one who had wielded that sword, right? How did that work? And he could turn into a wolf as well? Was this part of the hero package or something, being able to turn into a beast?
Did that mean Link was doomed to haunt the land for centuries until the next hero came around?
Rusl swallowed thickly, his heart aching as he watched his boy’s soft face. He stood abruptly, filled with anxiety, and stepped out of the room.
He didn’t really know what any of this meant, but he could at least try to sort it out and move on to more practical things. Rusl was fascinated by the world around him, but he wasn’t going to get lost in hypotheticals.
Heading for the sacred spring at the edge of the village, Rusl knelt in the water, listening to it lap against the shore absentmindedly. He felt too tired to come up with words, but the single desire of protect him, don’t let him have such a terrible fate repeated in his mind and heart and soul as he closed his eyes and bowed his head in prayerful petition to whoever might be listening.
He couldn't change the fate of a hero, the destiny laid out by the goddesses, but he could still pray for mercy.
“Rusl, are you alright?”
Renado’s deep voice caught Rusl unawares, and he jumped a little. Turning, the swordsman saw the healer standing at the edge of the spring a few paces from his home. He watched Rusl observantly, mild concern furrowing his brow.
Standing, Rusl sighed, rubbing his face tiredly. “It’s been a long few days.”
“I imagine so,” Renado said sympathetically with a small smile. “Your son will be alright. I believe he’ll be fit to return with you to your home tomorrow. Colin will no doubt be pleased to see him.”
Rusl wanted to smile warmly at the remark, but he couldn’t quite do so. He was eternally grateful to Renado for watching out for his son and the other village children, and he was happy at the thought that Link would be healthy enough to return to Ordon tomorrow. But… the thought of explanations that would have to be made upon returning also weighed on him.
At least he had Uli for support, and she would be so relieved to see Link well.
The smile finally came forth, and Rusl nodded. “Yes, he will be, as will his mother. Thank you so very much for all of your help, Renado.”
The healer tipped his head with grace. “It is always a pleasure to help others.”
The pair spoke for a short while as the sun started to dip towards the horizon when Rusl heard Epona whinny excitedly. Turning, he headed for the area close to the graveyard where she had been grazing and found a teenager who very much should be in bed petting her and smiling.
Rusl sighed heavily, an old exasperation bubbling up inside of him. “Link.”
Link jumped, startled, and then smiled again. “Hi, Pa. I just wanted to see her. I bet she was worried.”
Approaching the pair, Rusl reached out and let Epona sniff his hand, and the horse nibbled it tentatively in expectance of a treat. He looked Link over and was relieved and pleased to see that he wasn’t quite as pale as he’d been, though he was still a good few shades lighter than his usual tan complexion. Link held himself steady, though he was leaning on Epona for support.
“I know,” Link immediately said before Rusl could get a word in. “I need to rest. But… but we can go home, right? I can handle the ride back to Ordon, I promise.”
Rusl watched him worriedly. “Link, not tonight. Why are you in a hurry?”
Link bit his lip. “It’s… I know Ma is alone and caring for Colin and Hana, and I… I don’t wanna be the reason you can’t be with her and help her and she—”
“Link,” Rusl interrupted firmly. “You are the priority right now. It’s okay that we’ll be gone one more day. Uli understands, and she wants to see you come back well, not passed out from exhaustion.”
Brushing hair out of the boy’s face, Rusl softened his tone. “It’s okay to rest.”
Link leaned into the touch, looking a little sad and put out, but also clearly still desperate for reassurance from Rusl that everything was okay between them. The sight broke his heart anew, and he pulled the teenager into a hug.
This was going to take a while to recover.
Rubbing the boy’s back, Rusl whispered, “Come on, let’s get back to bed. We can have some pumpkin soup and you can tell me all about your adventure.”
Link nuzzled into the hold, swaying in Rusl’s arms, clearly sleepy. “Pumpkin soup…?”
The light hint of excitement, blanketed in sleepy slurred words, made Rusl chuckle. “Yes, pumpkin soup. Come on, son.”
The pair walked together back to the inn, bathed in twilight, and for once, Rusl was not overwhelmed with the usual sadness that accompanied it.
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